


Dance of the Gyrfalcon

by KeanBlade



Series: Color of Vermilion- AU's of the au color in red. [5]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Arranged Marriage, Enthusiastic Consent, F/M, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, M/M, Miscommunication, Politics, Senju Tobirama Needs a Hug, Sexual Harassment, Slow Burn, Suboptimalsibling!Hashirama, Worldbuilding, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-10
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2020-08-13 23:57:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 39,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20182855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KeanBlade/pseuds/KeanBlade
Summary: Things could have gone very differently and sometimes Tobirama couldn’t fight the wish that they had. Izuna’s fingers had tightened around his sword, the tip had lifted- Tobirama’s eyes had flicked to it even as he continued to heal the wound he had given Izuna- Izuna had wanted to kill him. Izuna had tried to kill him, but blood loss had stolen his strength. It was enough to push peace talks into happening, but not enough to not require more from him.





	1. mantle

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Miray](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miray/gifts), [kitsunesongs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitsunesongs/gifts), [LunarWarrior098](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LunarWarrior098/gifts).

> An AU in the color in red universe, but doesn't really require reading the others in the (very) expanded universe.

Things could have gone very differently and sometimes Tobirama couldn’t silence the wish that they had. Izuna’s fingers had tightened around his sword, the tip had lifted- Tobirama’s eyes had flicked to it even as he continued to heal the wound he had given Izuna- Izuna had wanted to kill him. Izuna had _tried_ to kill him, but blood loss had stolen his strength and his hand had fallen before the blade did more than give Tobirama shallow stab wound. Tobirama had poured chakra into the wound distantly aware of Madara’s fast approach across the field and knowing he only had seconds in which to work; he refused to leave it undone, he would fix it all the way before he was interrupted. Distantly his brother’s words washed over him, it hurt, but he wasn’t surprised to hear what Hashirama thought (“Tobirama! No! Now Madara will never agree to peace! Tobira why couldn’t you have been merciful just this once! You’re always cruel brother!”) so he was able to ignore everything and dart back just as Madara reached for him to throw him off Izuna. He stumbled, glad everyone was looking at Izuna so no one noticed his tight noise of pain as the wound Izuna had given him strained, alright, it was worse than he had first though; he clenched his teeth, he only had a bare few moments before someone looked at him answers and Hashirama might not care that Tobirama had a wound that would have been fatal with even a little more strength behind it, but it _Touka_ very much would.

If she saw that Izuna had tried to kill Tobirama even as he was healed (Tobirama had known that would happen, had judged it worth it, was surprised to be alive even) she would _never_ forgive him. And as third in the clan she had sufficient sway for that to become a real problem for Hashirama, especially is peace was brokered; Tobirama didn’t know if that would happen with him still alive (Izuna would never agree to peace that included him) but Hashirama was going to try. So Tobirama needed to not be wounded, which sucked because his chakra was too low to heal it as well as he normally could; with his lowered ability to have his normal fine control it was going to be messy and ugly, the scaring would be bad. But not dangerous to his health and he had never had anyone to look nice for anyway. Two quick breaths and he gathered a searing hand of white-green chakra and pressed it to his abdomen, gritting his teeth against the sound of pain that wanted to crawl out of him at the sharp, _searing_ pain, _god, this **sucked**_**.** But it worked just in time as Touka dropped in at his side “You healed the brat, what did you do that for?” she said with clear distaste, Tobirama had no idea what Izuna had done to warrant Touka’s animosity but it had always felt guiltily nice to know she was so firmly on his side (so few people were- which was a selfish thing to think).

He sighed a little “Uchiha-sama would have lost his mind, we both know that. And Hashirama would have hated losing his chance at peace.” Touka slanted a look at Tobirama “You sure that it’s got nothing to do with your infatuation with Madara?” he fought back his blush with everything he could and glared at her a little, “_NO!_” he hissed and she grinned slyly at him but was prevented from teasing him farther by Hashirama turning to him and beckoning him forward with and egger expression. “Madara has agreed to peace talks!!!” he cheered brightly, absolutely alight with joy; Tobirama felt a vail fall over his face as he moved forward to stand with his brother, the Uchiha only ever saw the White Demon (somedays it seemed like that was the only thing anyone saw any more even when he was trying to be more open) and they wouldn’t trust anything else. And until the day peace was declared they were the enemy and he had to remember that, someone needed too, and it wouldn’t be Hashirama.

It was easy to stand next to an ebullient Hashirama and listen to him bubble to Madara about peace and what they could do next and, and, and! Tobirama had to do very little really, just keep and eye on the gathered shinobi of both clans to see that nothing happened to disrupt anything; though it was hard to ignore the way Izuna was watching him with undisguised suspicion and dislike- healing the other man had clearly made no difference in Izuna’s feelings about the Senju freak- and Madara was keeping himself angled between them and a wary eye on Tobirama (so even saving his little brother when it would have been wiser to just let him die had not raised him in Madara’s eyes, that _hurt, _god he was a fool). By the time Hashirama had extracted a promise of a hawk tomorrow to get the talks going it was taking everything Tobirama had to not waver on his feet, he wanted to go lie down for the rest of the week and when he got back Tobirama still had to help with the healers; he could take one of the pills they had reverse engineered from the Amatchi, they were awful and lead to a horrible crash later but it would get him through the rest of his duties. He could pass out after for a day or two, that wouldn’t be unusual for him so no one would think anything of it (he wasn’t going to think about how it felt to know no one noticed when he was so exhausted he literally passed out for over a day).

Dragging himself through the rest of the day hurt, but not nearly as much as the conversation he had with Hashirama after. He was called into his brother’s office as soon as he left the medical wing and trudged after Kasogi’s tiny shape on unsteady feet; he hadn’t been this bad in a very long time, somehow he had almost forgotten how hard it was to not crumple into his brother as soon as he saw him and ask for comfort and the warmth he craved. But it had been a long time since they had had that relationship, not since Hashi was 11 and Tobirama saved his life- not that Hashirama thought of it that way- whatever relationship they had had…. changed after that and never really recovered. So he stood before his brother and let Hashirama’s words wash over him and tried not to be sick or faint; it was going to hurt tomorrow to think about what Hashi was saying, but right now he didn’t even care as Hashirama lectured him about not hurting Izuna and wanting peace (as if Tobirama didn’t long for it every bit as much as Hashirama did) and “at least he had healed Izuna” never mind that doing so had nearly gotten him killed. But maybe that wasn’t fair, Hashirama wasn’t trying to hurt him, he just got focused and honestly Tobirama was always fine so maybe he just didn’t think about it; Tobirama did know his brother loved him. He just. He just didn’t think Hashirama liked him very much. (And some days it felt like he loved the concept of a little brother, not Tobirama. That he would replace Tobirama if he could. Any one of their other brothers would be preferable. Maybe any of the Uchiha brothers. But Tobirama knew he was being selfish.)

By the time he staggered into his own room it was all he could do to drag off his armor before collapsing on the floor. The bed was just to far away; the cold would get to him, but he would just crawl into bed later after the worst was past. With the last flickers of soldier pill induced chakra he reached out senses flicker over the space between him and the Uchiha compound and wrapped himself around the suffocating heat of Madara’s chakra and something inside of him relaxed at the steady warmth. (How wonderful would it be to sleep wrapped up in that suffocating heat? Sometimes he dreamed he was, but that always hurt when he woke.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I write fast and don't edit much- this is a place for me to not have to worry too much about perfection and just enjoy it- so things can be mangled at times. (I've got a wonky brain that can't see symbols as well, so I frequently can't even see mistakes) That's not something that's likely to change any time soon, so if imperfect writing puts you off this probably isn't for you


	2. beat

Madara couldn’t remember last time he had been this angry, if he ever had. It wasn’t even his normal fast hot anger, this settled deep inside of him and burned searing cold, it didn’t eat at him, or burn, it felt like he had stepped into water heated almost to the point of steam where it felt almost cold again; that they would have this as one of their conditions, that they would ask this of him, of _any _Uchiha, was so beyond anything he could think they would have required that it had never occurred to him. What gave them any right to take away the one thing their entire clan held dear? The chance at finding a Center- the one person Sharingan eyes would find first in any room- at finding love; there was a _reason_ arranged marriage was all but forbidden in the Uchiha, falling in love with another when married would require breaking oaths, and that _was_ forbidden. There was passion in their bloodline, far too much of it; Uchiha had been driven to do terrible things before because of the painful tangle that love-passion-hate created when it was burned indelibly into the brain. What you are not given the grace to forget time cannot heal; there were layers upon layers of rules and customs designed to prevent the clan from tearing itself apart over disputes of the heart. Reparations when loved ones were killed, Claims when the Sharingan saw something that others did not to ensure that there was time to address everything, concessions and taboos built into their culture in order to ensure that they didn't kill themselves off over heartbreak. One of the first of which- unspoken or not- was the simple proclamation that no Uchiha was to be married without love, for when an Uchiha loved, they loved with everything they were and are and ever would be; and only truly _once_. It wasn't in them to be flighty. Oh they might take more than one lover in their lifetimes, they were passionate people and had little fear of sharing it, but they understood that there was many kinds of love and no one would have ever married except for the love that consumed everything in the heart and put to shame any memory made before, even if burned into the Sharingan.

So the fact that they would ask him for this, that they would make their acceptance of peace conditional upon his willingness to marry a Senju, when they _knew_ that that was all but impossible to accomplish, was not only cruel but painfully clever and Madara was fairly certain he knew exactly who had masterminded the plan. Yashiro Uchiha had been one of Madara’s father's older cousins and the man had never quite forgotten that he wasn't part of the main line of succession. He never had been and never would have been, Tajima may have allowed the child killing squads, may have even quietly celebrated a little when he heard that one of Butsuma’s clever sons had died; but even he had always been sickened by the clear pride the Yashiro took in running down another child in the field. Madara had put a stop to the child killing squads the second he had taken up the clan head and it had used up a frustratingly large amount of his political capital- particularly what he would have used to fight Yashiro- it was something he still paid for, but he didn't regret it for a single second, particularly not when Hashirama followed suit the next year when his own father died. It had been years since any children had fallen in the field and in some ways the very absence of dead children was what was going to help him the most in convincing his clan members to agree to peace.

And, _god_, that thought right there told him what he was going to do didn't it. He was going to send a hawk to Hashirama and sue for peace on the condition of a marriage alliance. And it would _have_ to be Madara, even if Izuna could be convinced to do it he would never require that of his little brother, besides chances were Izuna would knife his spouse in the bed rather than remain tied to a Senju (Madara was not blind to his brothers unhappiness at the prospect, and if peace was going to go forward he needed to have a long conversation about what particular reservations he had about it). Yashiro had too much political weight at this point to be ignored without causing the potential for division within the clan (how Hashirama didn't deal with this same thing Madara didn't know) and Madara was already in open defiance with him on the matter of taking Izuna’s eyes, Yashiro insisted- particularly after this most recent battle where Tobirama had clearly proved his superiority in the field- that in Izuna’s head was no longer the most affective place to have them. Clearly the clan would be better served if any chance of the clan had going blind was completely erased, the potential of the risks that changing eyes brought with them went completely unconsidered of course. Little side effects like sudden changes in temperament and character would clearly fade and weren’t something to be overly concerned about! (Never mind that there was a reason the Uchiha as a clan didn’t run around switching everyone's eyes willy-nilly, if it was that easy no Uchiha would ever go bind.)

He tipped his head back and dragged in a breath of pine and smoke scented air; the clan compound always smelled like smoke, there was always fire somewhere within and life changing decisions happening in their clan or no, the Uchiha would never let the fire go out; it was something of a consolation even now to know that. There was a gentle meow from his feet and he glanced down smiling slightly at the sight of one of the Uchiha clan summons; the cats had been contracted with his family for longer than he could remember and had always been a comfort to him. This particular one- Easha- had been the one to most commonly comfort him in the days after the death of yet another brother; there had been times when he had felt as though she was the only person he could confide his secrets in , made easier by the fact that unlike some of the summons she had never once spoken a word in human tongue that anyone in the village was aware of; Madara didn't know why she didn't speak but it was reassuring to know he had a secret keeper. He tried for a smile as he bent down and picked her up “Looks like I'm going to get married Easha. You know I, I always thought that I would be excited when the time came” his voice trailed off into a hoarse whisper and pressed his face in her soft fur, trying to pretend his eyes weren’t prickling.

The conversation with Izuna went no better than Madara had anticipated; his little brother was furious at the idea of peace, firmly insisting that there was no way the Senju would keep to their word and treat fairly, and “-surely you can see that brother! There is no honor or faith in them! They will _ruin_ us and even if your _dear friend_ Hashirama doesn't I promise you the White Demon will; you might trust the clan head, but _I'm_ the one that knows Tobirama and there is nothing there to trust. He is every bit as cold and cruel as the stories tell, and brother, if he is the one who wants to destroy the clan, he can do it. He truly is _brilliant_.” “He saved your life!” roared Madara “Only because he tried to take it! Madara, he is fully intelligent enough to have done something like that to manipulate us. No. Unless you do something to ensure that he can't be a threat to us I will never stand behind you in peace.” Madara stared at his brother, shocked, it had never really occurred to him that Izuna would flat out refuse; he had always assumed that his little brother would stand behind him when push came to shove. Madara didn't know what to do with this proof that he was wrong; was it an example of as Izuna’s aversion to change and sore pride at being defeated? Or was he legitimately that frightened of the White demon? Madara had never paid any particular attention to Tobirama except watching to make sure that he didn't kill Izuna; he had heard those stories of course, rumors about skill and chilling battlefield calm, but never given them much credit. Perhaps…. perhaps he should have.

Luckily in this case there was an easy solution, “Very well, I hope having him here within the compound where we can keep an eye on him will put your mind at rest.” Izuna hesitated “Within the compound?” Madara glanced over his shoulder “Who better for me to marry then the Senju clan heir?”


	3. alight

Madara wasn't as shocked as he could have been when his hawk was returned with not only Hashirama's letter but also what looked to be a fully fleshed out first draft of the treaty; _Hashirama_ almost certainly hadn't written it so he must have gotten his terrifying lady wife to help him with it, it would be just like him to use his endless optimism to browbeat people into something like this. And it was a _good_ treaty; lots of space for further expansion if things moved farther than just ceasefire treaty- even a couple of clauses thrown in here and there that clearly laid the way for the village in the future- whoever had written it had put in a lot of thought into it and what was more impressive had made a great deal of effort to ensure that it was fair on every side, which reassured Madera a little bit after Izuna’s fierce argument the night before. Whatever the truth was about Tobirama, clearly Hashirama was every bit as committed to peace as he had always been and would do everything in his power to ensure that the Uchiha were given a fair deal; and despite what is Izuna might say Madara was fairly certain that Tobirama _did_ care enough about his older brother to listen to his wishes. Madara may not have been watching him specifically but he had seen they careful way Tobirama always kept a fraction of his attention on his brother as he fought, Madara had actually crossed swords with Tobirama once for it; Hashirama had been distracted that day, Madara didn't know why, but he had been off his game and Madara had been angry after the failure of an important mission and not paying attention to pulling his blows the way he normally did. So when he swung the gunbai he had had one terrifying moment where he had known he was going to end up terribly wounding Hashirama- though it probably wouldn’t have been fatal given the skill of the Senju healers it would have been a terrible blow- just as he was afraid it was too late there had been a sudden flash of white and blue and then Tobirama was there. The force of Madara’s swing had shattered the younger man’s sword but it had given Hashirama the moment he needed to recover his focus and Madara had to quickly stopped paying attention to Tobirama in favor of the fight with his older brother.

What _did_ surprise him was Hashirama’s enthusiasm for the idea of a political marriage; more specifically the fact that Madara didn't even have to ask for Tobirama, Hashirama proposed that all on his own. It was a logical choice- suggesting that he married anyone other than one of the most prominent members in the clan would be insulting- but Madara had expected to have to convince Hashirama to part with his last younger brother- something _Madara_ couldn't imagine willingly doing without putting up a hell of a fight- but Hashirama offered up Tobirama like it was nothing. Which was… odd. Potentially worrying because either it could be a sign of Hashirama's faith in his brother’s willingness to work towards peace or- if he let himself be influenced by Izuna- proof that the Senju had no interest in holding onto the clan heir for some reason or another, and if he were being suspicious it would be easy to think that they were just as ready to get rid of someone that they didn’t trust. Either way it accomplished Madara’s goal without him having to get into an argument with Hashirama- which would inevitably end up in dramatics and wailing- so it was probably just as well. Madara smiled little meanly, he was going to enjoy informing the elders that not only had the Senju agreed, but Madara was going to be marrying the White Demon.

Telling the elders about his impending marriage was every bit as satisfying as Madara had anticipated- though the way Yashiro’s face had drained of all blood was a little worrying- but his enjoyment of it was dampened somewhat by the way they promptly insisted that it be a formal affair, they would meet up to sign the first treaty and a quiet perfunctory wedding ceremony would be performed. It wasn't as though Madara had exactly expected to have an extravagant ceremony given that it was a political marriage , but it hadn't really occurred to him that he wouldn't be having the wedding he had always quietly wanted; a proper Uchiha wedding complete with celebratory fireworks and all the cheering that normally accompanied a clan marriage. This would be quiet and somber and utterly devoid of emotional attachment; it was as though the elders wanted to make it as clear as possible that this was not a proper Uchiha union, they wanted him to be painfully aware of exactly what he was losing and would never have (it worked, whatever enjoyment came from tormenting them and quietly getting back at Izuna was washed away by the thought of that). Still, perhaps it wouldn't be so bad; after all Tobirama had chosen to spare Izuna so he couldn't be entirely without virtues, he was blisteringly intelligent if nothing else so whatever conversation they could muster up was almost sure to be interesting, and it wasn't like the man was exactly _ugly_. Somewhat odd looking yes, but easy on the eyes; in another life with another person he might actually have been excited, intelligent, dangerous, exotic, handsome, exactly the right kind of person for an Uchiha to fall for (for _him_ to fall for). It was his personality that was the problem, the idea of marrying someone so cold and utterly devoid of passion or kindness chilled Madara to the bone; but peace was worth any sacrifice, so he would simply have to make the best of it- even if it made his heart cry out in despair.

The elders got their wish. Hashirama wept and wailed all over Madera- which frightened his clansman a little at first when they thought he was being attacked- and nearly vibrated out of his skin as the initial treaty was signed- this particular one was essentially the promised ceasefire (even so the amount of times it had been rewritten and sent back and forth was infuriating, every time he got it back with the elegant handwriting they must have belonged to the Uzumaki Princess making the changes, he was impressed by the patience they were having with the elders constant need to insist on minor changes in grammar and phrasing. By the time it was done it was essentially the same as it had been originally even after having been rewritten about a dozen times) with the promise of a more extensive treaty being negotiated in the future. Which would be an advantage of having Tobirama in the clan compound actually, as it would probably significantly speed up the treaty making process to have the clan heir there, who would presumably know Hashirama's mind on such things and be willing to act in his place until it came time for final signings. Even if it was only an agreement to no longer kill each other it was still a major improvement and a first step on the road to true peace (maybe even to the village they had always dreamed of) and Madara wasn't going to pretend he wasn’t every bit as happy as Hashirama was; it was hard to maintain the good mood though when they reached the end and the monk was ushered forward to oversee the official marriage (the particulars of which had been included in the ceasefire), Madara…. Wasn’t ready for this.

Oh, he had worn some of his nicest formal robes, and twisted the top section of his hair into a knot held in place by golden chains and kanzashi, but they were not the traditional wedding robes of an Uchiha and he had never imagined being married with his brother glaring at his spouse with nothing short of murder in his eyes. Tobirama’s face was as cold and remote as it ever was, locked into the shape of the White Demon even in the face of his own marriage (Madara wondered exactly how much choice Tobirama had been given, he couldn't see Hashirama forcing his brother into an unwanted marriage, but he couldn't see Tobirama agreeing of his own free will either). The Senju’s robes were every bit as ornate and beautiful as Madara’s but created with a distinctly more militant flair, decorated here in there with embroidery that looked to have been designed to mimic the shapes of panels of armor (where had he even found something like that?). It was strange clasping those cool calloused hands in his own without his gloves on- there was no way he was going to get married without touching his husband’s skin no matter his normal aversion to touch- and looking into the other man's eyes and seeing nothing reflected back at him but empty distance. Marrying the White Demon was like marrying ice, cold and without joy.


	4. brood

Tobirama had never considered this, had never even dreamed of a world where he was married to Madara; and perhaps that was a good thing considering the dream would have been a metamorphosed into a nightmare. When Mito had come to his room and knocked carefully on his door he had known that something bad much have happened (no one ever came to his rooms) but he could never have imagined _this_, never could have imagined the Uchiha requiring a marriage (it didn’t fit with what he knew of the clan’s culture), _never_ would have imagined that Hashirama would sell him off to the Uchiha without even telling him. He _should_ have known in retrospect; he was the most logical choice and Hashirama had always been willing to sacrifice almost anything for his dream of peace but it still… (and it was _Mito_ that told him, Mito that Hashirama told, Mito that thought he deserved to know) it hurt a little.

It also meant his normal load was doubled or even tripled over night; luckily he had had an initial ceasefire agreement written up for years and all it needed was a little cosmetic changes to update it, so that had been sent out with Hashirama’s letter (the one selling his future to the man he _foolishly_ loved, the man who did not feel the same) and if Tobirama had done his job right there would be nothing in there to objectionable- there would be cosmetic changes of course as the clans negotiated but there should be little in the way of substantial changes that needed negotiation. That did not however lessen the amount of work that would need to be done to leave Hashirama with all of the plans for functioning future treaty that laid the groundwork for the village his brother wanted so badly, never mind all of the things that would have to be put in place to ensure that the clan itself prospered without Tobirama there to ensure that the paperwork was filled in correctly.

Mito had been managing the alliances and diplomatic matters herself for years now ever since she married Hashirama- Hashirama could be good at diplomacy, he was simply too charismatic unlikable to be bad at it, but he rarely cared to play the game long enough to actually make things work; preferring instead to simply concede or unintentionally used his overwhelming chakra strength to simply ram decisions through (a tactic that frequently lead to resentment and instability in alliances, it had taken a long time for Tobirama, Touka, and later Mito, to fix the mess that Hashirama had made of the clan elders council when he took leadership of the clan and simply told them how things were going to be instead of attempting to work with them. In the end they had ended up with a council of elders that were actually committed to the clan itself and not war, but it had been a painful process that had left Tobirama with several new scars).

Between himself, Mito, and reluctant Touka they had arranged things into a system that should be able to support itself even without his presence- he felt sort of foolish for assuming that he was as necessary as he had thought- which soothed Tobirama’s fears for his clan after he left, but didn't touch the ache that felt a bit like betrayal. Touka had been furious when she discovered that Tobirama was to be married to Madara, incensed that he was to be sold away for peace even if she understood the value of the peace itself- didn't necessarily agree with it, but understood it for Tobirama’s sake- so Tobirama had simply not told her about the reality of how it had come about and let her assume that he had been asked (she didn’t like that, she knew her cousin, if he thought it was necessary for the clan- for Hashirama- there was nothing he wouldn’t do) and agreed; as ever he couldn’t run the risk of her anger destabilizing the Senju. Not after the mess of the elder’s council.

Standing in front of a monk facing Madara was like having his heart twisted out of shape; this was the man he cared for (_loved_) and it was their wedding, but Madara looked at him with eyes full of conflict and empty of joy, it was _so_ clear that the Uchiha cared not a bit for Tobirama (he was reminded that Madara hadn’t even known who Tobirama was other than a name before this moment, that even when they fought once and a shard of his broken sword almost caught an artery Madara hadn’t given his a second glance- then again, neither had Hashi). Every dream he had never had twisted into something aching and bitter, every hope exposed to harsh light and shown to be full of flaws, every piece of him found wanting; and he fought harder than ever not to show any emotion on his face, he couldn’t afford that, not for a moment. But the wedding paled in comparison to what came after (he had said his goodbyes earlier, before they left the compound, all his things in a seal scroll and Touka's angry tears on his shoulder even has she teased him about “wooing his man”- he wasn’t capable of wooing anyone and she knew it- and Mito’s lips tight with frustration- she understood though, better than most) so he endured Hashirama’s wailing and weeping with as much grace as he could (_now_ he was upset?) and took his leave from everything he had ever known without looking back.

There was to be no wedding night required- Mito had made sure of that- so Tobirama was unsurprised to be given his own room in the clan house (of course his husband wouldn't want to have to touch him) but unaccountably hurt to find that it was farther away from Madara's than Izuna’s room (_fool_); still privacy would be nice even if it took time before he left anything important lying around. He trusted Madara when he promised that Tobirama’s things would be left alone and he had never known the Uchiha to go back on their word so even Izuna should remain bound by that (not that he would leave anything important lying around anyway, but he never did that even at home). He was left to settle into his own room before the formal dinner at which he would be introduced to the clan and made the best use of the time that he could to ensure that nothing of his internal struggle was visible on his face; he did his best to soften his normal mask though- he didn't _want_ them to think of him as the White Demon even though he knew he had little control over that. In the end he wasn't sure how much he succeeded at that but the dinner wasn't to terrible, it was somber and uncomfortable with many wary and concerned glances thrown at the clan head (exactly how hard had Madara had to be pressured into this?) but nothing particularly bad happened; even if Izuna spent the entire time glaring at him with undisguised fury. And yes, Tobirama was a little ticked off by that; he saved the man, got stabbed by him and this was what he got? He hadn't expected to have Izuna start liking him, but he had thought it might decrease the overt hostility, particularly when making it so invisible could be seen as undermining Madara’s choice; apparently Izuna didn't take supporting his brother half as seriously as Tobirama did. Idiot.

But there was two things that made the night the most awful in recent memory for him (not worse than discovering that his brothers death, _nothing_ could be worse than that): the first came just after the meal was finished when he was presented to the elders. He knew them in a second, Oh he had registered all the chakra signatures of everyone in a clan compound, but he had been doing his very best to ignore them; he couldn't when he was paraded in front of Yashiro Uchiha and had to look the man that killed his little brother in the eyes. It helped to see that Yashiro was afraid of him, but only barely; Tobirama's hands were well and truly tied, unless he somehow magically gained his husband’s trust there was nothing he could do to touch the elder. Though he would be doing his very best to find some way to make the man pay as discreetly as possible. There were a few People that he _hated_, but Yashiro was the last man that still lived who had been involved in Itama’s death- he had haunted the others down when he ran across them in the battlefield but never seen Yashiro there.

The other came later; he had been preparing to bed when he had thought of something that he needed to ask his new husband- he couldn't remember what- and when he had heard Izuna say his name as he spoke with Madara he had been startled into stillness. He hadn't intended to eavesdrop, but the content of the conversation froze him in place; “- Tobirama, how could you choose him?” Izuna said and Tobirama _froze_, because that, that might mean- distantly he heard Madara say something about Hashirama offering him up before the Uchiha even asked, but that didn't even matter- because if Madara had _chosen_ him. If he had intended to ask for Tobirama before Hashirama offered, then maybe this wasn't hopeless; maybe there was something here to be built on, maybe Madara had noticed him before or at least been grateful for his healing of Izuna, maybe there could be some affection between them even if it never became would Tobirama wanted. (His heart raced, lifted, a bubble of relief grew inside him, _maybe-_) and then Madara spoke. ”You are you one that wanted to keep and eye on him, you can’t tell me that this isn’t the easiest way to do it.” And Tobirama wanted to _scream_.

He stumbled back from the door, clutching it every bit of his cold neutrality that he could; it evaded him in a way it never had before, there was nothing inside of him that felt whole. _God, how could he have been such a fool!_ Of course the Uchiha wanted him as a hostage, he was dangerous and commonly regarded as somewhat unstable; everyone knew that the White Demon killed without remorse or second thought. Bringing him here where they could keep a close eye on him was clever, an arguably good tactic to ensure that he was as close to neutralized as he was going to get. This close to Madara (who could certainly beat him in a fight) he was useless even as mole or saboteur, he was little better than a hostage and for him to have _thought_ even for a second that it was anything else…. Well. There had never been better proof that he wasn’t cut out for something like that. Tobirama pressed his fingers to his eyes and drew in a deep, shaky breath ignoring the wetness under them; things were no different than they had been an hour ago, not really, he just needed to get his heart under control and he could do what he always did (and just try to do better in the future).


	5. flap

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bit short but things have been crazy

Madara was feeling distinctly off balance, he had been married for all of four days and he was pretty sure this wasn’t how it normally worked. So far his new husband spent most of his time meditating silently on the engawa when he wasn’t eating meals with them with a perfectly neutral expression on his pale face; it was like living with a ghost, Madara hadn’t heard him say _anything_ other than polite non-answers to questions directed at him at meals and somehow he was even more remote than he had been at their wedding, which Madara hadn’t thought possible honestly. But even then there had been something in his face even if it was just and icy shield, now…….. now it was like spending time with, with, vapor! Distant and remote and with something vacant in his lovely red eyes (Madara wasn’t sure what to think of the revelation that his new husband had pretty eyes, so he just ignored it for now), it didn’t make sense to Madara; he had thought that there would be something from the White Demon, some kind of defiance or insistence on doing _something_ but he seemed perfectly ok with simply ghosting through the house with his days. It was starting to freak some people out, Kikiyo had taken to avoiding areas she knew he would be and Izuna was about to crawl out of his skin with tension at having his most hated enemy in his home and _nothing was happening_. Madara sighed and pressed his hand to his forehead glancing out at where he could see a perfectly straight back and white hair facing the garden. _Damnit._

Madara slid the door open slowly, hesitant of startling the other man; he shouldn’t have been- _sensor_ idiot- as Tobirama’s smooth voice immediately sounded “Is there something you require Husband?” Madara swallowed, Tobirama’s sounded as distant and cool as the koi pond and it grated on him. “Not specifically, no. But, Tobirama, it was not our intent that you be idle here-“ “I have seen my office, thank you. All matters that have been left there have been dealt with.” (ok, odd, Madara had never seen him in the room left for him, but Madara didn’t really see him after dinner either) “I- I wasn’t trying to criticize…. Its just, would you like something to do?” Tobirama turned to look at him, meeting Madara’s eyes head on with out an ounce of fear in slanted eyes. It was strange how different he looked; as husband to the clan head Tobirama wore the robes of an Uchiha if in paler colors- white and blue- and a more discrete clan sigil and without his armor he was much slimmer than Madara had thought, so to see that proud man so slim and pale…. It looked a little like he might blow away if not for his clever red eyes and the splashes of red from his tattoos. He still wore the high-necked undershirt- in Uchiha indigo now- the ruff of fur he rarely took off had returned to his shoulders the day after the wedding, and of course Madara never saw him without the happuri even now but he looked…. _Different_ from the one time they had crossed blades and it was driving Madara nuts.

Tobirama looked at him for a moment before dropping his eyes (that grated on Madara too) “I was unaware there was anything I was supposed to be don’t that was not related to diplomacy to the Senju and our allies, most of the traditionally duties of the spouse of the clan head are spread amongst others as they have been for years I am told. Is Kikiyo no longer able to help with that?” “How do you know all of that?” Madara asked slowly. Tobirama didn’t look away from where his eyes had drifted to the gardens again as he replied “I am a sensor Husband, and rather intelligent, it wasn’t hard to put the pieces together. But what would you have me do? There is nothing the clan is likely to trust me with.” Madara felt wrong footed, everything about this wasn’t going the way he expected; and Tobirama wasn’t wrong, there was nowhere he could go that he wouldn’t be watched with suspicion and dislike (the Uchiha hated his marriage and though they didn’t truly blame Tobirama he certainly wasn’t welcome). “Ah- um- would you like to see the library?” he felt silly the second the words tumbled out of his mouth; of all the foolish suggestions- but Tobirama, Tobirama lit up. It was the strangest thing; his eyes snapped back to Madara and for one long second he could see them fill with something bright and lively, his entire attention was completely on Madara for that moment (it was…) until he realized what he had probably given away and withdrew into himself “If you would give me permission that would be…. I would be grateful.” The albino said in a quiet, careful voice. (Ready to have Madara change his mind? Just for that he was going to make sure that Tobirama had all the access he could want, fucker) “It shall be done.” (out of the corner of his eye as he walked away sharp to-straight shoulders seemed to relax a little)

Escorting Tobirama to the library the next day wasn’t a chance to see what the younger man’s reaction might be, not with Izuna refusing to take his eyes off them and following them across the courtyard- honestly Tobirama handled it far more gracefully than Madara expected. He didn’t know what to think of the albino, he was clearly smart, and cold- reserved to the point of apathy maybe, but he saw nothing of the mad dog of a man that Izuna feared so much. Ice statue? Yes. Man Madara wasn’t sure he could ever care for? Yes. Honor less, heartless, rapid? No. Madara was fairly sure he was smarter than that, he would know the futility of trying to pull the shit Izuna expected; and honestly? Madara was really feeling all that trusting of Izuna right now. Oh, he trusted him at his back in battle (Izuna always seemed more centered in battle) but here? Here he didn’t think that he could at the moment (and that was a bitter, _bitter_, pill to swallow), not when Izuna’s intentions went so clearly against Madara’s path; (he wanted peace so badly it ached) Izuna could have- should have- died and fighting or not Madara _never_ wanted to see that happen again, never wanted to face a foe that would let emotion guide their strikes. Even if Tobirama had healed Izuna in order to strongarm peace that fact was- the fact everyone seemed too be forgetting- Izuna would have killed him just as surely if he had gotten the chance, and he wouldn’t have had the wish or ability to save the Senju; Tobirama had been protecting himself and his kin (like he was supposed too) and at the last moment gone against what all good sense said he should do and healed and enemy that might stab him in the back. Madara just…. Didn’t know what to think.

Tobirama’s face was turned away from him, carefully empty as he looked around the clan library (part of a large building that housed the healing wing, a dojo, the armory, thing that clan needed as a whole) “And what am I to be allowed to read?” the Senju’s voice was a study in control, Madara opened his mouth to answer but Izuna cut him off “Nothing about the Sharingan. Who knows what _you_ would do with it.” he hissed hatefully. Madara didn’t even have time to find his brain and give an answer before Tobirama replied “What do you think I would do with it?” and the kicker was, he really seemed a little (every emotion was only ‘a little’ with him) confused, like he honestly wasn’t sure what Izuna expected (for a second Madara thought there was a flicker of something like _innocence_, but- he must have been wrong). Izuna snarled wordlessly at him and stomped away (Tobirama watched him walk away with a faint furrow in his brow, he glanced at Madara and the clear- _sharp-_ hurt in his husband’s face) and Madara watched him go with growing concern before looking back at Tobirama who had turned back to the library; “Anything that doesn’t bear the clean heads seal.” He snorted “We don’t keep anything that important here anyway.” Tobirama looked at him with far away eyes and nodded. “I you have my gratitude; I shall avoid anything that might cause distress.” Madara forced himself not to sigh in frustration and nodded sharply. He got a few steps away before he heard Tobirama say- so quietly he wasn’t sure he’d even heard it- “Thank you, Madara-sama” he started, turned, but Tobirama was already sliding through the doors.

Madara somehow saw even less of the Senju after that. Any moment he wasn’t eating with them he vanished into his office or the library and only spent a few hours in meditation every evening (Madara had wondered when Tobirama was working on his kata, because he would bet almost anything that the other man wasn’t loosing his edge), he spent more time in the office after discussions over the treaty started again. Most correspondence went through Tobirama; though Hashirama continued to write to Madara with frustrating frequency- Madara didn’t need more work right now, he already had too much on his hand as it was what with Izuna being an ass and the elders fighting him everything they had an opportunity to make a mess of things- and all the abrupt, short responses in the world didn’t slow him down. It was easy to let time get away from him and look up one afternoon and realize the entire traditional two weeks of unification were gone and tonight was the night that Tobirama was to be formally presented the clan as an Uchiha, fuck. This was going to be _fun_.


	6. nest

Tobirama wasn’t sure what he had expected but he knew that he had actually turned out fairly lucky; oh the cold ache in beneath his breast bone hadn’t changed (every time his husband’s eyes passed over him without pause it burned like hoarfrost) but all things considered it could have been worse. At first he did his very best to simply stay out of the way and not cause offence; he had meals with his husband and Izuna- it wouldn’t do to let anyone think he was afraid of or avoiding them- and sorted through what clan matters he was allowed to view in the evenings (he hadn’t meditated this much in years) but it was choking him with boredom. He knew that in a normal marriage the spouse of the clan head was entrusted with a great deal of work- in Mito’s case she had been handed the diplomatic work for the clan, thank heavens- but in an alliance like this things were… different. There were some matters left for him in the study he was given and he attended to those as quickly as they arrived, but most things were still being managed as they had been before the wedding; divvied up between a few people (including Madara and Izuna) but largely tended to by the a dark eyed kunoichi named Kikiyo. He knew of her of course but he had never met her before, she was called the Red Crane and was well known in certain circles as one of the most talented geisha trained in recent years; add that prodigious skill set to a talent with poison and an easy ear to talk to and you had one of the most dangerous woman in Fire Country. He admired her in a sense, and had hoped a little to speak with the kunoichi, but though he had seen her- the white kimono with it’s pattern of red headed cranes was distinctive- and frequently sensed her chakra (cooling ash and maple leaves) she never lingered in his presence and seemed more determined not to be caught alone with him as time went on not less.

It stung a little, he spoke with so few people (except Izuna who always took a moment out of _his busy day_ to hiss vitriol at him, Tobirama was _so proud_ of his ability to multitask) and loosing the potential of another conversation partner, well. Even after his husband offered to show him the library (and gave him free rain to spite Izuna, that relationship worried him) and he began to spend what time he could there he was rarely spoken to, every Uchiha going out of their way not to interact with him if not completely necessary. He understood, sort of, they didn’t want him there and they feared that he would turn on them; truly he was lucky they were so passive about his presence, he wouldn’t have been surprised to be greeted with fire every time he ran into the family of a shinobi he had killed (he always knew when he did. He had tried to remember the chakra of every shinobi he killed so he always knew- _summer mint and rain in ash, brother to kunoichi Tobirama killed two years ago, low burning brush fire, he killed that girl’s father six months ago_\- and he could feel every one of them in the compound). (He could feel Yashiro too; like a spur in his side every time he breathed.)

But they avoided him, and the only echoes of emotion he got consistently were distrust and disgust (he would have preferred anger); it was an odd liminal place and he was _extremely_ grateful when the negotiations for the peace started again; it was nice to have something to do and to talk to Mito, even if only through short correspondence when he sent her updated drafts or asked her to check over something. It was _so_ much easier to do this this way honestly; Madara would bring him new negotiations, Tobirama would look it over and make most of the changes, send it to Mito who would go over it with anyone that needed to see it in the Senju compound and return it to him. If he didn’t need any input from them he would make the changes himself and just send his sister in law a short note to keep her up to date and the time that this cut out of the process was invaluable in terms of going over alliance plans for other clans (start slow- alliance- then ask for closer ties- promise of aid- then slowly push for integration into the village. But first become invaluable), a project Tobirama had never had enough time to really devote himself to before and one that he worried about (the clan charter he had originally created was extremely flawed, to coercive for his taste).

He had so much more time now that it chaffed at him really; late nights running kata until the moon set only filled so much time and he was so used to sleeping only when he couldn’t stand up straight anymore that he couldn’t bring himself to leave the work behind (he worked on village plans quietly, his jutsu projects had to be put on hold with most of his other experiments but he read everything he could and tried not to stew over the injured shinobi he could feel in the healing halls- he could _save _some of them he knew. But would never bring it up; not after he had tried once and Madara had gone white with fury even as Izuna spat threats at Tobirama if he even _approached_ the healing hall) so he filled his days as best he could and tried not to think about spending his life isolated in a bubble of silence and distrust (it shouldn’t feel new, it _wasn’t_ new). There was lots of things he tried not to think about, he refused to think about the comfort of being so close to Madara’s chakra all the time; searing and suffocating- the deep heat of a too warm sauna, it clogged the lungs and crawled into his very _bones_\- and making him feel warm all the way though (at least until his own chakra reached out and Madara’s recoiled at Tobirama’s cold, empty touch) it was something he basked in in stolen moments and guilty meditation. Surly it was taking advantage of the older man somehow?

The afternoon before he was to be formally presented to the Uchiha he spent in meditation- sinking his mind in Madara’s warmth- desperate for a way to find stability before he had to go in front of the entire clan; before he had to look Yashiro in the eyes (_child killer_) and do _nothing_. Nothing about the man that had killed Itama when he was so young and had _laughed _at Itama’s fear (Tobirama would never. _Never_. Forget what that felt like. Never forget what it felt like to have his brother hunted like a rabbit in front of his senses), nothing even as that man’s very chakra made Tobirama taste the blood that had dripped down his face from the eyes- already subpar- that he had all but ruined with chakra overload when he tried to just _see _his brother one last time before- But. no. he couldn’t think about this. Not today, not with what he had to do tonight; Itama was dead, and all he had left of Kawarama was the happuri, but the bright young chakra he could feel in the dojo and healing halls, the children that flitted around the compound, they _weren’t_ dead. And he would do anything he had to in order to see that that remained true. Anything. (and there were other ways of tormenting Yashiro, he would think of them. For now, he just enjoyed the way the old man jumped at every sound- Yashiro could _feel_ Tobirama’s attention on him, and the albino knew it was driving him nuts.)


	7. flutter

The clothing for the feast was blessedly simple, a variation on what he had worn ever since he had come to the Uchiha clan compound but nothing that would force him not to wear the happuri or his fur (thank the gods) and dressing was easy. Less easy was arriving at the door to find his husband pacing in the front room, Kikiyo sitting quietly watching as Madara paced (she stiffened at the sight of him, Tobirama tried not to notice) and Izuna leaning against the door with utter disgust painted over his face; it made no sense to Tobirama, _why_ was Izuna going against his brother? _Especially_ so openly, dissent like this could tear the clan apart if they weren’t careful; if Izuna wasn’t smart he would get his brother killed, because Tobirama didn’t think there was any world where Madara would raise his hand against his younger brother. Which would mean Tobirama would end up defending his husband, then Madara would kill _him_ when he went to kill Izuna and everyone would be dead. (even Izuna, Hashirama might not care much for Tobirama but if someone killed _Madara_ and Hashi’s last brother Hashirama would _slaughter_ them. So they would all be dead in the end, all but Mito who was the strongest of them all where it mattered.) It wouldn’t even be hard to kill Izuna really, a quick twist of chakra pulling at the blood and- but no, he was letting the unease get the better of him. Tobirama forced himself to go empty and transient as water vapor and look at Madara when his husband spoke to him. “Tobirama, are you ready? It’s not- I mean- well. there will be everyone there and it’s a big feast, but you don’t have to do much and-“ “Husband.” Tobirama interrupted “I have read about Uchiha celebrations, we shouldn’t keep them waiting.” Madara spluttered at him for a moment before nodding jerkily and turning towards the double doors of the clan head’s home. Tobirama heard him take a deep breath as the albino walked to his side and together they faced the doors- Kikiyo on one side and a harsh faced Izuna on the other to open them- and at the last moment before the doors opened Tobirama slid his fingers around his husbands forearm; a light touch, barely more than a breath, but enough to make a statement.

The doors opened, firelight poured in with the smell of spiced smoke; the chatter of voices and flicker of shadows, the glint of feline eyes in firelight and steady push-pull of chakra. They stepped out together into it, into the very heart of what it was to be Uchiha; to feel their joy and passion, to know their loves and folly, to taste their food and love their music. _Smoke and spice and dance and **passion**_. Oh, thought Tobirama stepping into it, seeing the Uchiha greet their leader with joy and reverence, seeing them try to be glad for him in the face of everything, seeing their gratitude; Oh, he thought, this is not something I can touch. This will never be mine. This is not something I can raise my blade against again. Now we _must_ make peace, because I cannot hurt this, I will die before I let them make me choose. Now we _must _have peace. Because here in the heart of their unfettered chakra he _knew_ them, and he couldn’t bring himself to let it die; not when this was the first time so many people had left their chakra loose with no fear of his sensor’s abilities (none _yet_) since he had been a child, the first time he had been given the chance to soak up so much good will even if it didn’t include him (what he wouldn’t give for a Sharingan to always remember this when they started to watch what their chakra around him). It felt the way hard baked earth does when water is poured on it, and he wanted to just tip his head back and soak it in; to throw all his senses open and- like a slap to the face he felt it. _Yashiro_.

The elder stood before them, eyes sharp where Tobirama’s fingers still rested on Madara’s arm (he refused to remove them, they needed to make a statement,especially to the elders Madara _clearly_ disliked) and Tobirama raised on white eyebrow slowly, radiating unimpressed the way he only ever had at Hashirama when his older brother was at his most extravagant. (He didn’t see Madara’s pleased glance, Madara had never expected Tobirama to make such effort to support him; reading up on ceremonies and _voluntarily_ touching him to make a point, the support- freely given with no expectation of return- was… well. And Tobirama had such pretty eyes. It was too bad...) Madara spoke next to him and Tobirama shifted, tilting his body language into his husband (_I value him, I listen to him, I defer to him, you should do the same, see how powerful he is, see how I stand behind him_) “Honored Elders, you are here to formally welcome my husband then?” they very clearly were not, but Madara left them no ground to do anything else, not when there was not a single sign that Madara and Tobirama were anything other than a united front. Kikiyo, uncomfortable but present stood at their backs, Hikaku joining her, Izuna… gone. Tobirama didn’t think Madara had noticed, but others would if something wasn’t done to keep attention on them, Tobirama hated distractions; but maybe… He reached out- pretending to ignore the stilted greetings from the elders (_see, I’m more interested in him, you don’t matter_)- and carefully twisted a piece of Madara’s long hair (don’t think about it) around his fingers from where is had fallen out of the half knot. A shiver of chakra and a flick of fingers and Tobirama collected water from the air around his hand another lightning fast thought and he held a decorative hair comb made from ice; it was simple enough to use the comb to pin back the errant hair even one handed with his fingers still on Madara’s arm.

He dropped his hand once sure it would stay (it would require a small amount of attention for the night to keep the ice solid, but nothing impossible) and turned distant eyes on the elders, “Thank you for your welcome, and the welcome of the Uchiha.” (Tobirama would never admit that when his eyes met Yashiro’s he felt a stab of vindication at the look on the old man’s face) Madara lead them away to where a table had been set out for the head family under the tree in the center on the main square (did they know the danger that put them in from Hashirama?) and together they turned to look at the clan. Madara’s voice was strong and full of conviction when he spoke “We have lived many days burying too-small coffins, today is the start of the end of those days, today we are finding a new way. Today we move forward towards a world where we can protect what we care about, protect those precious to us, and the Senju will walk with us on this path; just as Tobirama and I shall walk into the future together and guard each other into our twilight days so shall the Uchiha and the Senju walk together and thrive for the companionship. Today is the start of the rest of our days, so let us rejoice! Rejoice Uchiha for we shall see tomorrow be better than today!”

Tobirama, Tobirama watched the man he… loved (_fool_), looked at him limed in golden flame-shadow, burning and glorious, and it felt as though he had been split down the middle; all of his hopes and dreams spilling out on the ground. Hopelessly devoted and endlessly alone in the middle of a new beginning, a ghost’s shadow in the flicker of better men’s reflected light; he wanted to step closer, to touch, to lean on that burning grace but- he held himself still and remote. His cold touch was not welcome here, not in this world of fire and passion. A new tomorrow, but not for him.

The feast was a rush of chakra overload, of carefully allotted control (that comb _wasn’t_ going to melt _damnnit!_), of heat and spices and restraint; food turned into music and dance and Tobirama sat and watched it all spin around him (Madara did not ask him to dance. Madara did not remain by his side long). As soon as Tobirama felt he could slip away without frightening anyone with his disappearance, as soon as they were all distracted with dance and sake and _life_, he leapt into the tree above him; it was quieter and cooler here, a little… _less_. A little easier for him to manage. But even as he unwound his tense muscles- pain was pounding behind his eyes- he felt it; a small chakra signature, small and _desperately _sad. He hesitated, he shouldn’t do anything, he had to be careful or he could jeopardize everything- but, but Tobirama never could ignore a child in pain. He found the little boy curled up in the shadow of the library on the edge of the square, large fat tears dripping down his face as he watched the celebrating Uchiha; he was crying the tears of the hopeless, silent exhausted tears and Tobirama couldn’t. Couldn’t watch that. “Little one, what’s wrong?” The boy jumped at the sudden voice looking at the tall ghostly figure suddenly sitting next to him, but he was _so tired_ and didn’t even have the energy to be afraid, “My mom. She- she’s- she’s dying. She got hurt and she won’t wake up and. Jiro says she’ll probably die tomorrow. She. She’s- all I have left.” His breath hitched and his voice was thin and cracked.

Tobirama hesitated, he could feel her now; halfway down the hall, near a window, brain injury, and yes death was near. But- it didn’t have to be “What is your name?” “Kagami” was the listless response and Tobirama moved to kneel in front of the child “Kagami, I might be able to help your mother, hush, yes I _might_ be able to. I can’t promise it will work and I need something from you ok? If I do you must promise me you won’t tell anyone I was the one who helped. They have to think it happened on its own. I want you to go straight to Madara if I touch anyone other than your mother, but if I heal her I need you to promise you won’t tell anyone, some people would be very angry if they knew I had done anything, so can you promise me?” Kagami stared at him with huge eyes but to his credit he thought it through before he nodded slowly. “I promise.” Tobirama’s expression softened a little and he touched the little boys head before gesturing him into the building with one last look to make sure they weren’t watched. No one was paying them any attention. The healing halls were cool and quiet, the soft sounds of music seeping in through cracked windows and open curtains to shiver through the air around too many beds (not many occupied though, thank all that was good) Kagami’s mother was a silent shape surrounded by a halo of slightly curly dark hair (not just a paternal trait then) and when Tobirama knelt at her side he could feel the shift of her chakra as it ebbed and flowed away from life.

“Alright Kagami, I need you to keep watch. This will take work and a lot of concentration; do you know how to flare your chakra? Yes? Good, if anyone is coming or you hear anything change outside flare it and I’ll know.” Kagami was nodding his head so hard it looked painful but Tobirama just shook out his hands and let his focus even out as best he could; this was delicate work and needed more than one kind of chakra, so he needed a clear head. The chakra came as easily as it ever did, his water affinity calling out to the blood pooling in her skull (pressure on the brain, not too much damage of the permanent sort hopefully) and coaxing it out through her nose; hold the blood spiraling around his hand as he called the healing chakra up, sooth out the bleeds (find them with water chakra, _ah, there_) reduce the swelling; slow, careful, gentle, and then… it was done. Tobirama pulled back and flipped his fingers letting the blood pool on the sheets (they would wonder where it had gone otherwise, let them think nose bleed) before he sat back and ran a diagnostic on her; she was going to be fine, probably, they wouldn’t know for sure until tomorrow but Tobirama was pretty sure- “I can’t make you are promises, things can go wrong, but I think she’ll be alright Kagami” it was difficult to not get bowled over by the boy’s effervescent joy at those words. Tobirama kept his feet under him only by chance when Kagami threw himself at the albino with franticly whispered thanks (smart child, he knew to say quiet). God, it had been awhile since he did anything that required quite that much precision and control; even healing Izuna, while it had taken a lot of chakra, had not required that level a finesse. 

Kagami helped him return to the main house and slip up to his bedroom and as Tobirama collapsed on the bed he realized dimly that he was still maintaining the ice comb, even after the healing, Oh well, it would melt as he slept, (it didn't, and it didn't melt the next day or the next, Madara left it on the table by his bed for weeks still perfectly frozen until the day it melted and Madara _knew_-)


	8. wing

Madara was fucking sick of this conversation, it was going around and around in circles just as it had every time it came up between them; Izuna shouting about how Tobirama was going to use healing as a chance to kill off Uchiha without consequences- after all, maybe the healing jutsu just hadn’t worked- and threatening to get the elders involved if Madara gave the albino permission to work in the hall (threatening full-out insubordination) and Madara snarling back that _Tobirama healed you didn’t he? Clearly he has a talent for it!_ and his words never making a difference. Madara turned away from his brother with a snarl and stormed to the window, looking out in an attempt to cool his seething temper before he spoke again, “You know that as long as you threaten to make a fuss about this I can’t do anything, but Izuna, every Uchiha that dies when Tobirama could have saved them; every one of them is on _your_ head. I want you to know that.” The room was cold and quiet in the wake of his words “And Izuna, if I hear you threaten my husband again you won’t enjoy the consequences.” Izuna made a wordless sound of rage and stomped from the room; the heavy thunk as the door shut behind him seemed to echo in the room and Madara shut his eyes with a heavy sigh.

He might not feel any particular affection for his husband, but Tobirama had done nothing to endanger anyone or thing in his time here, had indeed gone out of his way to be accommodating as far as Madara could tell. Fuck, his support last night at the feast had left Madara more grateful than he had ever expected; Tobirama had had his back from the moment the doors opened, light fingers on his arm a promise he had fulfilled in full. Shaming the elders and sending a clear message of unity to the entire clan; a message Izuna seemed not to feel any need to send himself (Madara hadn’t missed his brother’s absence at his back even if Tobirama had tried to distract everyone) so it was a relief to know that _someone_ was keeping an eye on him, even if Madara wasn’t sure he trusted Tobirama at all (he was so…. cold, how was Madara supposed to trust that?) there was no denying that the younger man was _extremely _tenanted. (The way the elders had looked at every jug and glass of water after that…) Hell, after what Madara had seen even he would think twice before challenging the Senju (and it was so, _so, beautiful_\- NO), which made Madara wonder; had Tobirama been going easy on Izuna all this time? If not than what was making up the difference? Because Izuna could never have made a comb out of ice with barely a jutsu, as carelessly as a lady producing a decoration from a chest (a comb sitting next to his bed, graceful lines glinting in the early light when he woke, the feeling of careful fingers-) that sort of control was firmly beyond his little brother; maybe he had more chakra than Tobirama? Madara had never checked before. He bent, placing a hand on the floor and taping into his own chakra to send it out in a warm _ping_ thought the compound, feeling the familiar rush of his people as they went through their days (he was always reminded of how much he _loved_ them when he did this) only to jerk back in shock when he felt a cool brush of chakra reaching back.

What in the world? Carefully he pressed his hand to the wood again, looking for the chakra that had been reaching out to him (must have been even before Madara sent his pulse out, who would be paying that much attention?) but it had retreated completely and the only chakra that felt like it at all was the shifting cold wall of Tobirama’s soul; his chakra was like an ever shifting water dragon encircling him from every angle, cold and regal and distant (beautiful though). But even that wasn’t perfect match for what he had felt for the brief moment they had touched, that had been like standing in the spray off of a waterfall in the heat of summer, cool mist on his mind and the taste of river mint (and rosehips?). Whatever it was that he had touched (it had to be Tobirama. Didn’t it? if it was-) had been lovely and refreshing but was also gone; that meant he had other things he needed to be doing. (he completely forgot what he had been looking for in the first place in the taste of mint and rosehips)

The news that Sukumi had woken up was a welcome relief from his dark thoughts and worries- even if the healers didn’t know how she had woken- and the sheer joy on Kagami’s face as he curled up with his mother was a reminder of why Madara was doing this in the first place. Sukumi would be in the hall for a while yet, her recovery would take time and she might never get back the full range of her abilities- head trauma was a tricky thing- but she was _alive_ and fully aware and cognizant, that was good enough for Madara; he didn’t need soldiers anymore, not the way his father had (if nothing else he had done that). But it was only a momentary break from his other concerns; the elders, Izuna, the peace treaty, the dyamo, the relationship with Uchiha allies that might be less than pleased to see an alliance with the Senju- that being his current fire to put out. The Shimura were most displeased with the idea of an affiliation with the Senju given that they blamed Senju Touka for the death of their previous clan head, it was hard to get them to listen to the rational for peace- even harder through letters alone- never mind that the Uchiha had a great deal more to hold against the Senju. Still the threat to withdraw from their relationship with the Uchiha was a real one, without the Shimura one of the main trade lines would go down and not matter how much the Uchiha’s metal work was worth- and it was _prized_ anywhere in the five countries- it didn’t matter if they didn’t have trading routs to sell it; so he needed to smooth over this relationship quickly. Damn.

A knock on the frame of his office door started him out of his stewing and his shock was only compounded to see Tobirama standing at the door looking tired in his well-hidden way (huh, Madara didn’t know when he had left the feast last night- had been trying not to look at the way his sharp features looking in firelight- it must have been later than he thought to look so worn), “Tobirama, what do you need?” (Tobirama stiffened a little) “Husband, I would like to request permission to look in the clan head library. At the histories, it would behoove me to know more about the ties the Uchiha have with other clans.” Madara blinked at him stupidly, that was actually a good idea. “I’ll have Kikiyo accompany you later as long as it’s only the histories I have no problem with it.” Tobirama nodded and it looked like he might leave, but he hesitated and asked in a quiet strangely careful voice “What has you so concerned Husband?” Madara frowned but really, Tobirama couldn’t do any damage with this so he beckoned the other man more fully into his office and explained the problem with the Shimura; as he did so Tobirama’s head tilted and a thoughtful look slipped over his face.

“It seems to me from what I know of the Shimura that it would be best to just issue an ultimatum. They don’t want to lose your alliance and goods when it comes down to it, it has been the threat of the Uchiha that have protected them this long. And the metal work is without compare, let them choose if they wish to bow. The current head is an arrogant man, nothing else will work when he wants to feel more powerful than you.” Madara sighed, it would be the best way to handle it but- “We need the trade routes.” He admitted reluctantly. Tobirama gave him an odd look, “Why? Would the Hatake not suffice?” it was his turn to sigh at Madara’s blank look “My mother was half Hatake though she didn’t have the look. You have married me, therefor you have the promise of their alliance as long as I am treated with honor and you do nothing to harm them. I thought you knew that?” Madara shook his head, he hadn’t- he hadn’t realized the Hatake took blood quite the seriously- seriously enough to transfer alliance to whoever their blood married into- but it would be a neat solution to his problem. The Hatake could fill the place the Shimura filled easily enough, and would be nicer to treat with as well if Madara’s reports on their temperament were to be believed; Tobirama had solved in minuets a problem he had slaved over for hours, god, maybe he should ask for his input more often.

“Is that where you got your coloring?” Madara asked curiously. Tobirama’s jaw went tight “No. I am albino, not Hatake colored.” There was something tense in his voice, a waiting pressure, but what did he expect? That Madara would be… upset? Or something? Why? (there were so many strangeness in Tobirama, it worried Madara in the corners of his mind) The Uchiha dug for anything he could come up with about albinism, very little it turned out, but he was fairly sure- “Huh, I guess that explains the red eyes. But don’t you have sun sensitivity then?” Tobirama, for just on second, looked shocked and vulnerable before he pulled his eyes away to the window. “Yes, it its somewhat problematic. If that is everything Husband?” Madara stared, a little caught off guard by the sudden change, he had thought they were having a nice conversation so what had changed? “No” he said slowly “nothing else.” Tobirama bowed his head and left the office and silent and ethereal as a ghost (and <strike>beautiful</strike> as a spirit). Madara sighed, one step forward, one step back, one step to the side, he never knew where he was with Tobirama. A problem for another day though, he had to attend to other matters for now. (he _had_ to focus on them, not what it would feel like to drag his fingers over that sharp jaw)


	9. moult

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> REMEMBER the misunderstanding tag, Madara isn't a bad guy.

It was getting a little easier to live with the Uchiha, he had projects again (the Uchiha alliances were part of it but he was looking into the history of the Sharingan as well, he hadn’t missed the way Madara rubbed at his eyes sometime as if they pained him), the work for the village and permanent peace was coming along well, and if his loneliness still ached, well, Madara asked him for input on clan alliances sometimes and actually listened to what he said so it could be worse. Then there was Kagami. Ever since he had saved the boy’s mother Kagami spent any moment he could get away without being noticed with Tobirama- luckily he was careful to always make sure no one noticed he spent time with Tobirama- and Tobirama simply couldn’t say no to him so he ended up with something of an illicit student; it was… nice to not be alone and to be around children again, he had missed them in the recent years as he was increasing busy with clan matters and they were encouraged to spend less time with him. But here Kagami didn’t know to stay away, oh he knew Tobirama was the White Demon but Madara’s speech had made an impression and most people seemed to be overlooking that in favor of the fact that he was the clan head’s husband- voluntary or no- and was to all appearances committed to Madara (they had _no_ idea). So, the Uchiha were- mostly- respectful but distant and those that were willing to go against Madara- those that had noticed Izuna’s hate and Yashiro’s fear- well, all they did was give him a list of people to watch; which he needed. Madara seemed determined to ignore Izuna’s increasing insubordination but _Tobirama_ wasn’t.

Of course it helped that Izuna found every chance he could to hiss his hate to the albino (_freak, abnormal, mistake, hated, reviled, ugly, we will never accept you, he will never love you, you are a tool nothing more_) and it… hurt. Tobirama couldn’t hide that, but he wasn’t exactly surprised, Izuna spent to much time with Yashiro and the elder had taken to venting his own bile whenever he could do it in public where Tobirama’s hands were tied (Tobirama preferred Izuna, Izuna only spoke when they were alone, and Izuna _never_ touched him. Yashiro… Tobirama scrubbed his skin raw some nights alone in the baths); so of course, Izuna was increasingly distrustful of Tobirama, Yashiro was _terrified_ of him after all (Yashiro’s increasing influence over Izuna worried Tobirama deeply). So Tobirama kept watch on the comings and goings from the elder’s house with his sensor’s ability and filled his days with research and Kagami’s insistent questions- he filled his nights with Kagami sneaking him in the healing hall once in a while so that he could help those that needed his specific expertise. It was lonely and exhausting and Tobirama knew he should be satisfied but… having Madara so close and yet so far ate at him everyday and the things Izuna said couldn’t be dismissed as falsehoods when Tobirama knew so many of them to be true; he wanted to curl up with his husband (wanted Madara to be his husband for real not just politics) and let the warmth sooth the nagging pain, wanted to feel valued (fool) and safe, wanted- well. he was an idiot and should be happy with what he had. After all even Kikiyo’s fear of him was fading as time passed and they even had short conversations sometimes- she was every bit as fascinating as he had thought she would be, sharp and observant and well deserving of her reputation- and that was worth something surely. Surely. (it had to be)

He had been here for over two months now and the first in person meeting between the clans was fast approaching as he scrambled to have everything in place for said meeting his stress slowly ratcheted up; he wasn’t going to go to the meeting, it had been agreed that it would be a good show of faith to leave him to defend the clan- as a clan head's spouse should- and no one had argued with Madara (hearing that, that Madara would trust him with this even if only to make a point and not because he trusted _Tobirama_ had been like drinking warmed liquor on a cold night, a fire that warmed him all the way through). Well Izuna had argued fiercely with him about it but Madara hadn’t moved and the argument had happened in private so Tobirama was calling that a win for now, so far his clear stance behind Madara was undermining most of the unrest but that could change and Tobirama feared the day it did and Madara had to choose between his brother and his clan (not his brother and Tobirama, Tobirama knew that was no choice at all). So because he wasn’t going to be there in person he needed all the paperwork to be ready before they left so it could be taken to Mito and used to finalize the treaty and start the process of the village; he would do everything he needed to make this work as he always had and if the idea of being left alone with Izuna and Yashiro made him go cold, well, he was a shinobi, discomfort wasn’t anything new.

The night before Madara left was one that Tobirama had hoped would pass in peace (please), he wanted one last chance to soak in Madara’s presence and remind himself why he had to be strong before he was alone in hostile territory (where he couldn’t even fight back); but his hopes for a quiet night (maybe Madara would even want his opinion on something) were shattered when Madara and Izuna entered together and already angry. Tobirama stiffened, he wasn’t often present for any of their arguments (Izuna refused to trust him with their disputes apparently, as if Tobirama couldn’t sense them) but if the hard twisting edges roiling in Madara’s chakra and the sour satisfaction in Izuna’s was anything to go by he wasn’t going to be able to escape this one; Madara was still angrier than Tobirama had ever seen him when he threw himself down at the table- only the three of them tonight- and Izuna sent him a look of pure spite that made Tobirama shiver in foreboding. This was going to be painful. At first it seemed that it might simply be simmering resentment and nothing else but Izuna- “And of course you’ll be staying in the main house while Madara is gone.” The smug pleasure in Izuna’s voice turned Tobirama’s stomach as he slowly lowered his chopsticks and looked at Madara “A word in private Husband?” It wasn’t a question and Tobirama stood and led them to Madara’s office as the elder man shut the door behind him “Explain.” Tobirama wanted to wince, that was not the way to start this conversation, but, but there was a tight ache in his throat, and he wanted to _know _what was going on here. Madara’s jaw went tight and the albino could feel his anger spike in his chakra “Izuna and I have agreed that it would be best if you remain in the house while I am gone.” “Izuna and you have agreed or Izuna has pressured you into this? You must see how bad an idea this is, the clan is only just starting to believe that you trust me and therefor all the Senju, if it get around that you ordered this- or worse that Izuna did- you will undermine everything you have tried to do.”

Madara snarled and fury slashed across his face, “We’ll be back before anyone has a chance to notice something amiss- “ “It sets a precedent-“ “You think I shouldn’t trust my _own brother!? _You think I should trust _you_ instead? Trust the White Demon?” his derisive snort was a slap to the face and Tobirama- Tobirama couldn’t do this. He turned as stalked out of the room with as much dignity as his aching heart could summon (_fool_). Madara didn’t follow him and he retreated to his room; god, what a mess. He wasn’t wrong he knew, this once might not be a big deal but it would set a dangerous precedent if Madara wasn’t careful; he _couldn’t_ afford to let his brother undermine him or make it look like he could destabilize their marriage, not when said marriage was a very public symbol of unity between the clans and if it could be damaged it would damage faith in the alliance working at all. Tobirama shoved off the door striping of his fur and overrobe as he went, just as he dragged his shirt over his head he heard the door open and turned to it barechested; it was _Madara,_ anger still on his face and cutting words on his lips (to late to hide what he looked like).

Madara was staring at him whatever he had intended to say forgotten and Tobirama forced himself not to fidget; he wasn’t stupid, he knew he wasn’t pleasant to look at, too strange and too pale (he had been so afraid Madara would hurt him when he found out), too scarred, _especially_ since the wound that Izuna had given him had healed into a knot of scar tissue on his abdomen, a sprawling scar that stretched across his body and around his back distorting one of the tattoos that curved around his hips and spine in a silver-white sunburst (it was the healing that had led to the worst of the scaring in the end, not the original wound), but he had never been quite as conscious of his flaws as he was when he stood under Madara’s gaze. Madara’s _disgusted_ gaze. Oh. Oh, that _hurt_. That hurt more than flash healing the wound had, that felt like… well. He looked away from Madara- couldn’t bare to see the other man’s eyes after everything- Izuna had been right, freak, ugly, unwanted; and Tobirama shouldn’t be surprised by that. He _shouldn’t_. (he had thought it wasn’t possible to feel like this- maybe the acid test would distract him for a while, he couldn’t cry while doing it at least)


	10. hover

Madara rubbed at his eyes, the run was infuriating and he was haunted by the last conversation he had had with Tobirama; he owed the other man an apology or dozen, he never should have let Izuna get to him- that conversation had been a disaster and Tobirama hadn’t even been _wrong_\- and to barge in on the albino the way he had (to wonder, even for a bare second while angry and heartsick and bitter, what the White Demon had done to_ earn_ whatever it was that had caused that scar; Madara had been- _was still_\- disgusted with himself- had thrown up later when he realized-, when he had a chance to calm down. God, how impossibly _awful_ could he be? The White Demon _might- **maybe**\- _earn something like that, but Tobirama? Tobirama _wouldn’t_. When had he let Izuna get so far in his head?); he had tried to explain the fight, to apologize (he was angry at _Izuna_ and torn in two by his brothers <strike>betrayal</strike> actions, not at _Tobirama_) to his husband this morning, but Tobirama hadn’t given him a chance, had reverted to the cold statue he had been when they first married (Madara hadn’t even realized that he had relaxed) and refused to hear what Madara had to say. It ate at Madara and was a distraction he could ill afford right now, but he couldn’t pull his mind away from the way Tobirama had looked before he went cold, the way Tobirama had for one second looked vulnerable and open (<strike>hopeful maybe</strike>), and they way it had evaporated the moment he met Madara’s eyes. _Fuck_. He _needed_ to get Izuna out of his head. (he wouldn’t think about the way his skin all but _glowed_ in the faint light in the room<strike>, he was _mesmerizing_</strike>)

Desperate for a distraction he opened the scroll of paperwork Tobirama had given him to give to Mito- he hadn’t been told _not _too- and froze, coming to a stop in the middle of the path because- this. This was. How? This was the same hand that had written every part of paper that hadn’t come from Hashirama personally, the hand that had written out the treaty from its earliest draft, that had written out every rewrite and change since, every suggestion and concession. The hand he had assumed belonged to Mito, the hand that had to belong to _Tobirama_, no one else would have had reason to touch this paperwork, or the time given that the ink had still been wet when he handed it to Madara; all this time, all this time it had been _Tobirama_ that was the architect of peace. Tobirama (on his own, Hashirama rarely conversed with his brother at his own admission because apparently Tobirama was angry at him right now) that had given Madara everything he needed to make his oldest dream come true; Tobirama healed Izuna and gave him and opening, Tobirama married him, Tobirama wrote treaties and-

He started when Mikoto touched his arm, “Madara-sama, what’s the matter?” He cleared his throat of the sudden lump in it (gods he had _so much_ apologizing to do, he had so much he owed his husband) and shook his head, “No. No, everything is fine, just- just news I didn’t expect.” She nodded slowly, but waited until he rolled the papers up again and started running to move; falling in at his back, and Madara did the best to shut out the buzzing in his head as he ran, he needed to _focus_ so that he could take what Tobirama had given him and make the best of it. (He couldn’t think about the comb he had slipped in his pocket on his way out the door, or about how much time and care Tobirama had spent on making peace work, about the chakra that might have been reaching out to him, about the momentary joy in red eyes at the idea of the library, about fingers in his hair, about_ the look on his face when Madara saw his scars._ Thinking about that would paralyze him and ruin his husband’s hard work, he couldn’t- _wouldn’t_\- do that.) And he would get it done today so he could run back tonight and not let them shut Tobirama up for more than one day; it would look better and more importantly his husband didn’t deserve it in the slightest (<strike>Madara couldn’t shake the feeling that he was starting to trust Tobirama’s view point more than his brother’s, as traitorous as that felt- a terrible betrayal of the brother he had loved as long as he had known what love was</strike>) and though Madara had thought it was a- well, not a good idea- but an acceptable concession to keep the elders from insisting on going on the trip with him he was starting to doubt that. (<strike>how was he supposed to choose?)</strike>

The meeting went about as well as Madara had expected- at least now that he knew it was Tobirama and Mito working together, that explained a lot about how well it was going honestly- starting with Hashirama throwing himself at Madara in a wailing fit and only asking after his brother _after_ he had sobbed about Madara and peace and flowers and shit (_why_ had it taken so long for Hashi to ask why his brother wasn’t with them?) though he was instantly cheered by the idea that Madara trusted Tobirama to keep the Uchiha clan safe in his absence (which… huh, he actually did didn’t he) seemingly only a little disappointed to not see his brother (_I think Tobi might still be mad at me. I mean, I know now I should have told him about the marriage! But I was just so excited!_ What. What- _What_ the _fuck_?) and Madara was doing his best not to think about any of that because if he did he would fuck up the negotiations by beating the shit out of Hashirama (he _might_ have been feeling a little protective, sue him). Lucky for Tobirama’s careful plans Hashirama wasn’t very involved in the actual negotiation and was instead busy charming the Uchiha that had accompanied Madara (something he was actually good at and was useful for once) leaving Hikaku and Madara to work with Mito and a kunoichi that was third in the clan now- well, second technically- named Touka; both women were fierce and intimidating on their own, though in different ways, and together they were enough to strike fear into even the most hardy of shinobi (Madara wished that Kikiyo was here, the three of them would be enough to make the entirety of Fire Country bow to their whims with nothing more than a few word and an eyebrow raise, it would be badass).

Madara sighed and sat back form the table, “That wasn’t as bad as I expected.” Said a mildly shocked Hikaku and Madara couldn’t help but puff up in reflected pride “Tobirama did a lot of it, he has been working on it constantly.” He said smugly, relishing Hikaku’s surprised and impressed look (yup, Tobirama was clearly amazing and everybody should know that) “Even the first treaty- you know the one that was ready as soon as I sent the first hawk?- was written by him, must have been well before he had any reason to think we would come to peace.” Touka shot him an inscrutable look and Mito nodded slowly “Yes, Tobirama has been working on insuring everything was ready for a peace if there was ever a way for that to work. He has always been devoted to reducing the number of clansmen that he had to bury. But I am a little surprised he told you.” She directed the last part at Madara, and he sighed a little “We haven’t talked about it exactly- his handwriting is distinctive- but I am going to be working on talking more about thing as soon as we get back, I promise you that.” Touka sat forward suddenly and looked him dead in the eye “You didn’t know he was working on it? I’m guessing he does it late at night, that is what he always did at home; work on it late into the early hours and almost no one would notice how little sleep he was getting as he attempted to make sure that the clan didn't fall apart because of Hashirama's inability to focus on paperwork. No one would notice the way he was holding the clan together and filling a dozen different roles until he left, and no one was there to pick up the pieces.” …… Madara wanted to hit something.

Mito sighed “Tobirama was _vital_ to the Senju as a whole, but he is vital to _me_ as well. Trust me when I say that if you are causing him harm the repercussions will not be fun for you.” Madara was honestly a bit flattered that she though he was worth threatening, but the other part… “I’m trying not to, things are…. a bit rough right now and I’m not sure how to fix it-“ “Ask Tobirama, he is good at fixing things an would love the chance to help _you_.” Touka interrupted him, Madara nodded “That would help probably, but I would rather not make him deal with people who actively want to hurt him. He’s just…. He’s so quiet! Is that how he always is?!” Mito actually laughed at that, clear amusement in her voice as she spoke “At first, yes. But get him talking about something he cares about? He’ll bore you to tears” (Madara doubted that) “try talking to him somewhere he feels safe and welcome and then ask him something he can answer without having to talk about himself.” She hesitated, “Madara-sama, I want my brother _happy_, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him like that, if you can make it happen- and if anyone can it’s you- I will owe you. He’s a strong man, but he has a hurt heart and hides himself from the world. Please, give him a chance.” Madara sucked in a tight breath, that was… a lot. He didn’t know how to respond to that, there was too much (he could if anyone could? Because they were married?) for him to know where to start but- “I am trying, it’s hard but I intend to keep trying; and I – I’m doing my best I’m just not sure its enough.” Touka sighed, “It’s still more than he will be used too.”

Things were wrapped up quickly after that; Madara was doing his best not to rush but he wanted to get things done as fast as he could, he had no intention to leave Tobirama locked up for more than a day- even that was too much- and if they could end the negotiations quickly and Madara could pry Hashirama off of him (that made Madara _pissed_. It was fucking stupid, he had told Hashi he wanted to get back to his husband and Hashirama had just pouted about Tobirama stealing Madara- well then he shouldn’t have offered him Tobirama! What did he expect?!) he could make it back with a late-night run. Fortunately, Mito and Touka were both on his side- and maybe saw the slight worry in his eyes- and helped him achieve his goals; so it was only a little after moon rise when the Uchiha set off back towards home. Madara loved his clan when no one questioned him or gave any indication of disgruntlement; they might not have known exactly what was going on but they were growing fond of their ghost, they didn’t understand him but he was quiet and subtlety helpful where he could be, he was more than the unwanted- if blameless- burden they had thought he would be and they kept pace with him without complaint all the way up to his door. Now he just had to go see his husband as soon as he woke up- which would almost certainly be later than normal after the too fast run so late in the night after a long day (but Tobirama was off of house arrest and that was what mattered)- and hopefully apologize. If nothing else maybe he could get some answers about what Touka had told him. (It seemed like every time he turned around he found something new about his husband and Madara was finding it harder to fight the pull)


	11. stoop

The library was a cool dim escape from the heat of the weather and it only took him a few moments to find Tobirama, his white hair a beacon even tucked away in the stacks as he was; the Uchiha took a brief second to <strike>admire</strike> look at his husband, in the sunlight from a tall window he _glowed_ like a rare pearl (so fucking beautiful); Madara took a deep breath (to replace the one he had lost when he saw the other man) and tried to inject as much casual cheer in his voice as he could as he walked up to Tobirama. “Touka and Mito don’t seem as tired as I expected, husband mine. I thought with all that you did for the Senju it would be running them ragged.” Tobirama shot him a look, “Like it is running you ragged Husband?” Madara sighed “Don’t pretend you didn’t do most of the administrative work for the Senju, it’s obvious after talking to Touka.” “Maybe I was doing much of brother’s work- he is… ill-suited to such things-, but it is still only one clan and with Mito in charge of diplomacy and Touka picking up the rest of the slack even Hashirama's aversion the paperwork can't run the place into the ground. It wasn’t that bad, it's not the end of the world any more than it would be for you to lose me.” personally Madara rather thought that _would_ be the end of the world “Then what was your work that was so vital?” Tobirama gave a tiny sigh and put down his brush “Do you know why the Senju are a more powerful clan then the Uchiha? It's certainly not size given that the Uchiha are a larger clan, it's not even necessarily a relationship with a Dymo, and it's not Hashirama's power- he never really goes on missions anymore with his duties and importance to protecting a compound, also he's very recognizable and not great at being sneaky- what left us in the superior position is that we are wealthier. How do you think that came about?” Madara stared at him “One of the main things I did was come up with new ideas and innovations that could be bartered out.” “They prostituted your brain?” Tobirama gaped at him for a moment (or as close as his expressions got, Madara was getting better at deciphering them!) “After a fashion I suppose.” He said slowly.

“How did I not know that?” Madara asked, a little bewildered; that was a huge thing for his scouts (spies) to have missed. “If you had known that I was the reason that the Senju had the sort of wealth we needed to be in a higher position the Uchiha would have sent an assassin.” “I wouldn't have!” Madara squawked, insulted; Tobirama carefully didn't look at him “There are other people with the authority to order assassinations” he murmured quietly. Madara swore internally because yeah actually, Izuna could have ordered one of those and would have as soon as he could if the way he was acting now was any indication. (Foolish, Hashirama was a wildly flawed brother- Madara _needed_ to hurt him for that- but Madara feared what Hashi would have done if his brother was assassinated in his own compound.) And Madara hated at the position he was in; torn between his brother and the husband he was beginning to <strike>adore</strike> care for; It was so frustrating, and while Tobirama seemed to be trying not to bring it up or point out the way Izuna was acting Madara couldn’t have a single conversation with Izuna without it spiraling back into the same topics (he should imprison Tobirama and treat him as subhuman, never mind that Tobirama was doing everything he could to make this work as far as Madara could tell). Madara _hated_ it, he wanted this fuckery to be over and he wanted to not have to worry about the elders (Yashiro mostly really) and he wanted to have a real conversation with his husband that didn’t involve Izuna. (Wanted Tobirama focused on him)

“What are you working on?” Madara asked eventually after the silence dragged on a little too long, he wanted to keep the conversation going if he could, it was one of the longest they had had; certainly the longest he had heard Tobirama talk, clearly the library was the place to talk to him (where he felt safe and welcome) though his surprising Tobirama had probably helped “Are you familiar with the Hyuuga?” Tobirama asked hesitantly (why was he always so careful?) and Madara snarled wordlessly “I’ll take that as a yes then, so I'm sure you've heard about their slave seal. The one they use to protect their eyes from theft apparently. It is essentially a way to hold a sword of Damocles over the entire clan that can be dropped at any point and kill anyone anywhere. Originally my plans for the village involved a charter that the clans would have to sign that would be connected to a web of seals in the walls designed to make it deeply uncomfortable for those who broke the charter to remain in the village. The charter would include a large section about not placing seals on anyone unwillingly or without informing the Hokage. However, since I find myself with time on my hands there is no reason not to create something more nuanced and less… authoritarian. If I can come up with a seal or jutsu that means that the eyes are protected from bloodline theft that it will help immensely in our negotiations with them. And ensure that the charter isn’t necessary - I dislike the idea of holding even that over the clans.” a pause, Tobirama slanted a glance at him through his bangs (was there something wrong with his eyes? They seemed a little red and there was something… off about his focus) “I thought perhaps the Uchiha might like it as well.” (aaannd there went Madara’s ability to think about anything else.)

“What?” Madara rasped, Tobirama stiffened but forced himself to explain “You might not take the insane steps the Hyuuga do- and Uchiha eyes are very hard to successfully transplant- but I know bloodline thieves worry you, maybe they will hunt you less if they know it won’t work? Maybe that will make it less worth the risk.” Madara swallowed hard, _fuck_, what was he supposed to do with this? With Tobirama going out of his way to make it safer for the Uchiha. God he wished Tobirama would meet his eyes, but the other man seemed to have reached the end of his openness for the day (but maybe he could make it happen again?) or maybe he had sensed Mikoto’s arrival as she emerged from the shelves. “Madara-sama, the elders are… requesting, your presence.” He bit his lip harshly, but he had to be careful with how he played things, especially now that he wasn’t going to put up with Izuna’s shit anymore; but- before he turned to leave he reached out and brushed gentle fingers over Tobirama’s hand, “Thank you, Tobirama” and left with the sound of Tobirama’s tight inhale in his ears. (Madara would find another time to apologize, it was still at the top of his list but might better done in private and Madara was done letting Tobirama get shoved into the background by other concerns, he was firmly at the front of _Madara’s_ attention now and he didn’t see that changing.)


	12. cry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This shit gets dark here, look at the tags, there are new ones.  
Also, attempted sexual assault both of Tobirama and threatened to a child. let me know in the comments if you want me to tell you what goes on.
> 
> Also, way longer than usual but it didn't want to be split up.

Tobirama watched Madara disappear from the compound with a tight expression, he wasn’t looking forward to his husband’s absence, if for no other reason than being stuck with Izuna wasn’t something he was looking forward too. “Tobirama-sama, would you like me to bring you anything from the library?” he started a little and turned to Kikiyo standing behind him with her hands tucked demurely in her sleeves, “I have things to do out of the main house much of the day but I can bring you something from the library first if you like, you having to be here… it’s not right Tobirama.” He blinked, that was the first time she had called him by his first name; it was odd, looking at the expression on her face and realizing that she honestly seemed unhappy about him being confined to the house. Which was its’ own problem now that he thought of it “How many people know that I’m... _confined_ to the house?” She hesitated, pressing her neatly painted red lips together- not the same shade of hearts blood that Touka used or the softer peach that Mito preferred, this reminded him of the rich crimson used to paint the sandō of a Shinto shrine- and though the pale ivory of her face didn’t wrinkle her discomfort was clear (unusual for her, Kikiyo was far to controlled in graciousness to ever look anything other than how she intended to look, even when she had feared him in the early days), but now… she almost looked worried. “Not too many, but. Izuna brought the idea up in a meeting with the clan elders- he shouldn’t have even been there really but Madara couldn’t kick him out without making a fuss- and it was agreed that if you remained inside the main house none of them would go with the diplomatic party.” god that would have a disaster, it made him feel a bit better about this whole thing (his mind shied away from the rest of the problems with last night, he couldn’t deal with that right now).

(He didn’t know Kikiyo saw the tight flash of pain on his face; she was well practiced at reading the emotions of the controlled, she simply hadn’t realized there was anything _to_ read in his face when he first arrived. She was still a little ashamed of that honestly, she of all people should have understood masks and know to look deeper- she should have known that there was more to him than his reputation- and she was even more ashamed to admit that his strange appearance was part of what had put her off at first; he looked like a wraith or a spirit and she… had been a little afraid of that. It hurt a little to think of how he had been in those early days, so cold ad closed off and seeming more and more like he might just fade into early morning mist and blow away with the wind like a yuki onna; with the gift of hindsight she could see the deep pain that he must have been concealing, but at the time she had been to afraid for her clan and desperately angry on Madara’s behalf.

She wished she could say it was some personal growth that had changed her mind, but it wasn’t, she would still be clinging to the shadows and watching him every second if it hadn’t been for that morning in the library. When the whispers had reached her ears- whispers of words no one else had even put together as full thought, thank the Kami- she had been concerned and taken to haunting the shadows of the library and discreetly watching; it had been hard, there was no hiding from a sensor like Tobirama, instead she hadn't bothered to try and hide her chakra and had instead merely giving the impression that she was farther away than she was in reality. It had paid off when she had watched as Tobirama’s normal quiet reading spot was interrupted by Kagami shimmying in through one of the windows to settle on the table and pester Tobirama for hours about his work; it had astonished her when instead of trying to get rid of the boy or becoming angry Tobirama had, if anything, relaxed. Indeed, he had looked the closest to content that she had ever seen as he slowly shaped small fingers into hand signs; he was a good teacher and she found herself wondering how many children he had taught before, or how many children he had wished to teach. He had had younger brothers hadn’t he?

Either way their easy relationship and clear familiarity had piqued her interest and when she had discovered the source of their acquaintance she had found herself deeply conflicted; on one hand it ought to be her duty to report to her clan head that a shinobi from a rival clan had snuck into their healing Hall, on the other as far as she could tell all he had really done with heal Sukumi and teach Kagami- something she was loath to interrupt. It didn’t help that Madara was struggling to keep his head above water as it was with the increasing work of the clan head- peace seemed to generate more paperwork than war ever had- and still help run short missions, deal with skirmishes- the Senju were not the only clan they feuded with, just the worst-, deal with the work Izuna was eschewing in his snit, keep the elders in line and away from Tobirama as best he could to get the poor man some peace, and hide the growing rift between him and his brother. It was easier to simply keep an eye on all developments and actually do her _job_ this time and remain as unbiased as she could, what she saw as soon as she cleared prejudice from her eyes hurt; Tobirama was a desperately sad man, hurting in ways she couldn’t comprehend from hurts she didn’t know (and she had no idea what to do with the way his expression always lightened and ached when he saw Madara), and Izuna was gaslighting him every chance he got- _fuck_ she was _pissed_ at that boy- which unfortunately wasn’t something she could get involved in, not unless it got truly dangerous. A threshold she feared they might have reached; Izuna was undermining the clan again and Kikiyo was afraid of the look in Tobirama’s eye this morning, far away, glassy in a way she recognized. He was a good man- and would be a good match for Madara if her cousin ever got his head out of his ass- she didn’t was to find him one morning gone as cold to the touch as he tried to make his heart.)

Tobirama sighed and resisted the urge to rub as his eyes, the ache of withheld tears pushing at his control. If the elders knew than Yashiro knew, either he would be spreading it around the compound, or he would take advantage of it to corner Tobirama- probably both actually. Mentally he shook himself, ruminating on this accomplished nothing “If you would bring the treatise on the history of bloodlines and the two texts on the flow of chakra, I would appreciate it; they should all be on my normal table, I was told it was alright to leave them out.” It took real work to keep his defensiveness out of his voice; he _had _been told that, and most would probably be unwilling to disturb the work of the White Demon anyway (that was what he was, forgetting that fact had clearly been unwise, it might not hurt so much if he hadn’t thought that they were making progress). Kikiyo nodded at his request easily enough and slipped out of the house with a soft whisper of silk and barely audible clack of geta, leaving behind the drifting scent of cherry blossoms and tea that hung around her at all times; it was kind of her to offer he realized with a start, a boon she wouldn’t have granted him a month ago, too bad she wasn’t the person that he truly wanted softening of attitude from.

Turning to retire to his office- if would be harder to be cornered there- he sighed at the sight of Izuna standing next to the stairs watching him with dark eyes; “Izuna” he greeted as apathetically moving towards the other man, Izuna didn’t frighten him- he knew he could kill Izuna with a single twist of power- but he hated what Izuna was doing to Madara- actually “Do you understand what you are doing?” Tobirama asked the other man just after he passed him standing on the first stair and not bothering to look (_I do not fear you; you are nothing to me_). Izuna spluttered angrily and Tobirama didn’t let him respond “You actions are tearing your clan apart, and if you do not care about that because your brother matters to you more consider this: Madara is devoted to the Uchiha, he will never abandon them and the clan war you are fomenting will only end one way. Izuna,” he all but purred, raising a hand and a whisper of chakra, feeling it call to the water pounding in the Uchiha’s pulse “if my husband dies because of you, you will never see another sunrise.” Threat well and truly delivered he walked the rest of the way up the stairs. That had probably been extremely foolish- Izuna would only be more afraid now- but he was _fucking_ done putting up with Izuna’s temper tantrums and if no one else was going to put him in his place Tobirama was fully capable (even if it ruined what scraps were left of Madara’s regard for him as anything other than a hostage. Cool tears were wiped away as soon as they made tracks down his face).

His morning was somewhat improved by Kikiyo’s arrival with his book followed shortly by Kagami scrambling through his window looking extremely pleased with himself (Izuna was across the compound alone on a training ground, Tobirama didn’t care as long as he wasn’t with the elders) it was quite nice really to work quietly through his eye related projects- the two were actually very complimentary to work on at the same time given the different perspective they gave him on the over-developed Tenketsuin in Uchiha eyes (it had helped a lot when Kagami let him scan his eyes)- while Kagami worked through the assignments Tobirama had given him and chattered away, perfectly willing to talk with minimal response from Tobirama when the boy covered something unexpected in his chatter. Still, it couldn’t last. Tobirama stiffened the second he felt a chakra enter the house (warm in the way rotting plant matter is, rank with decay of the soul) “Kagami, out, now.” The boy stiffened and hesitated until Tobirama leveled a sharp hard glance at him and he gulped and nodded scurrying to the window after Tobirama’s curt order to leave his work where is was spread against the other wall.

(Kagami perched uncomfortably on the thin ledge that ran around the house- he was fairly sure it was there to help late arriving shinobi climb into their rooms without waking the other occupants, Tobirama-sensei had smiled when he mentioned it so it had to be true- he…didn’t want to leave. There was something wrong with the way Tobirama-sensei had been acting all day and it was worse when he sensed whoever it was that was coming; sensei wasn’t _afraid_\- Kagami didn’t think he knew what fear was- but he had gone tight and hard and Kagami _knew _that look; it was like the look people in the healing halls made right before the healers re-broke bones so they could be set properly. Whatever was going on was _bad_, and Kagami just _knew_ Tobirama-sensei would never ask for help but he was also pretty sure that Madara-sama would want to help if he could- everyone knew that Madara-sama was enamored of his husbands’ "lovely" eyes however the marriage had started. Kagami thought that was part of why Izuna was so mad, he didn’t like not being the most important person in his brother’s world anymore; Kagami sympathized, he hadn’t liked it when his mother started seeing Mikoto and spending time with her. But he knew now that Mikoto made his mother happy and in the end that was more important to him than being her only person- also, it made it easier to slip away to spend time with sensei if his mother thought he was with the other woman. The door opened in the room behind him and his heartrate sped up, he should _go, _but he _couldn’t _leave sensei to do whatever this was alone! ….. He would stay, sensei hadn’t said anything, so he probably knew Kagami was there. ….Right?)

Tobirama didn’t look up from the letter he was writing Mito as Yashiro came in the room (no way was he letting this scum see his other projects) all his senses focused on the man at the door, tracking his emotions across his chakra and feeling out for the other elders and dissidents he knew Yashiro talked to so see if he could feel what was going on; nothing jumped out at him, but a few of them seemed to acting look-out around the house which was… worrying. “Tobirama” the way the elder tried to curl his voice around his name made Tobirama sick and he didn’t look up as he responded, “I am the husband of the clan head Yashiro, I do believe that is not the correct form of address.” Pause, look up (a touch of chakra in the eyes, just a bit, small pressure in the other man’s pulse- artificial fear) “unless you intended to insult me?” as calm and cool as if they discussed the weather. Yashiro licked his lips, he was white and his eyes were a bit blown in fear (pity that wouldn’t be enough to stop him) but there was a twist of something like avarice in his eyes as well (gods Tobirama hated this man), “Of course I meant no disrespect Tobirama-_sama_, but I thought we were… _closer_ than that.” The elder took the moment to step farther into the room licking his lips again with a distinctly different emotion, Tobirama refused to react outwardly even as everything within him twisted in disgust.

His lack of response or rising to the bait made ugly anger flash over Yashiro’s face (he wanted Tobirama, he probably wanted everything he feared- hoping to drag it down to his level and make it something he had control over. He was the type to clip the wings of the falcon that clawed him just to keep it from flying again); the elder stepped all the way into the room, anger giving way to excitement, “Come now Tobirama, we all know you would do everything to keep the peace, well, everyone but your husband, he seems to think you little better than a hostage, no?” (Tobirama ignored the stab of pain in his heart at that) “But I know better Tobirama-_sama_, I know you will do _anything_ to help your brother- even whore yourself to the highest bidder. Tell me, what’s the going rate?” Surprise and then disgust froze the Senju momentarily as Yashiro came around his side of the desk instead of the front and slid his fingers around the edge of skin visible where Tobirama had forgone his undershirt for a day inside. The feeling of those old finger as they brushed his clavicle brought on a rush of memory Tobirama had never- could never have- anticipated.

Fingers on his collarbone- _Itama was running, it had been a good mission and his chakra was high with success, maybe father would be distracted from Tobirama for a day or two and the blisters on his brother’s hands would stop leave bloody marks on the walls_\- skating across his breastbone- _the sudden pulse of big brother’s chakra from where is had watched him since he crossed their borders, a passive action big brother couldn’t turn off Itama knew_\- nudging at the edge of his robe- _was all the warning Itama had before the Uchiha were on his trail for real, so close he thought he could feel their breath, but Tobirama was on his way, Itama could feel their chakra’s mix as his brother focused on him, all but merging their senses_\- breath on his ear- _Itama couldn’t have been running long, Tobirama was fast he would be there soon, but they were faster than Itama and running him in circles to tire him out_\- “what would you do for your last brother?”- _he collapsed, brother was close but all the tiny cuts and burns on his skin wore Itama to pieces, there was a man in front of him, grinning. They were supposed to make clean kills, that was the rule, Itama knew that, this man wasn’t going to do that- _panting in his ear- _he hurt all over, he could feel brother looking for him in the trees, brother’s eyes hurt-_ the fingers dipped under his robe- _“what do you think? Perfectly good mouth, think we should make use of it?”_\- a finger brushed across his nipple- _brother was close, he would be here soon. He would be here soon. He would be here. Soon. Not soon enough. Itama wouldn’t let Tobirama see that. Itama lunged for on man, he turned and lashed out, blood fountained, Itama heard his brother scream and then he he...- _Tobirama lunged to his feet with all the speed he possessed spinning and dragging Yashiro by the neck up the wall till his feet lifted off the floor and kicked weakly, Tobirama felt bones creak as his fingers tightened.

A flicker of hot-steam-cloves chakra broke him from the cold storm of his rage, and he dropped Yashiro (had Madara taken the comb with him?), Itama was dead. Had been a long time, but Madara was alive and Tobirama never wanted to fail a loved one again. “Do you remember Yashiro, what I did to your team when I caught them? Even those that didn’t deserve it. Do you remember how you left with a team of five and were the only survivor? Do you remember how old I was? Do you remember that that was the first day they called me the White demon? I do.” Tobirama heard himself speak as from a great distance, his voice as cool and composed as it ever was, and Yashiro stared at him like he was death itself come to collect. Tobirama knelt in front of the old man, he felt distant from the world far away as if it was all encased in glass (except where a flicker of hot-steam-cloves warmed his chakra) “If you threaten what I love again you _will_ **_remember_** Yashiro.”

It was impossible for Tobirama to go back to the calm of his afternoon after the elder all but fell out of his office and the albino spent a long time sitting and staring at the wall, all his focus on the hot-steam-cloves letting it drown him under its’ suffocating heat. Eventually he stirred, he had plans for this afternoon, there was still the acid- mildly corrosive, nothing stupid- and the eyedropper to deal with after all; if he could fix the Uchiha’s eyes- _Madara’s_ eyes- it would be a place he hadn’t failed a loved one. It hurt, developing a new medical jutsu always did, but he was good at focusing his chakra around pain and working inside it; hmmm, not great, his eye (he only used one eye at a time, he needed to see his notes) was still searing painfully and he couldn’t see anything but blurs, he would try again.

It was only as the moon was rising that Tobirama was satisfied with his progress for the day, both eyes were functioning almost completely again and the pain was ignorable; he could keep going- there was no way he could sleep after today- but it might impede the development to use too much chakra on his eyes at once and he needed to see what happened to his sight over then next few days anyway. He tapped his fingers on the desk, torn, he _couldn’t_ sleep, not now but- **hot-steam-cloves** rolled over him in a wave and Tobirama was only distantly aware of his knees giving out under him; _Madara was back_. He pressed the back of his hand to his mouth, trying to stifle the sob he could feel stuck there, _Madara was **back**_, Tobirama wouldn’t be alone tomorrow, no one would touch him if Madara was around (when had he started actually trusting that? Not just that he was too good a man to let that happen- true- but that he would protect _Tobirama_, at least a little); he fell asleep there, curled on the floor and wrapped in Madara’s chakra.

The next day passed in a bit of a blur- literally- and the small hurt of Kagami’s absence was almost erased under the pleasure of Madara’s unexpected company; it was the longest he had talked in one go in a long time and Madara had seemed interested the _entire_ time (also, Hashirama, Mito, and Touka all leaving the clan compound? What the fuck?! How could they have been that stupid?) and Tobirama was greedy for his presence after the last few days (and for the touch of his chakra which seemed to be reaching for Tobirama no matter where they were, it was strange but Tobirama _loved_ it, _craved _it, wanted to sleep wrapped in it and never wake up. The fact that Madara was comfortable enough around him to let it lap at Tobirama was a balm to the ache of his belief in his husband’s distaste, it couldn’t be that bad if Madara was relaxed enough for that. Could it?). But even that comfort didn’t last long, it was as he crossed the main square- sunset turning the sky to flame and the compass fires to stars- headed to where Madara was standing speaking with one of his clansmen (Mikoto?) on the engawa of the main house that he heard it and moved without thinking, slipping through the Uchiha with the help of the humidity in the air like a falcon in stoop. His hand closed around Yashiro’s throat (ah, here again) before he even realized it and he tossed the man clear across the square to land just before the engawa at Madara’s feet, shattering light around him heralding his hiraishin to arrive at his husband’s side even as Yashiro hit the ground.

Madara stared at him and then blinked at Yashiro, “Tobirama? What did the elder do?” it probably warmed Tobirama more than it should to hear Madara assume that it was _Yashiro_ that had done something wrong not Tobirama (he was so unused to being given the benefit of the doubt, it was like hot honey on his tongue, thick and soothing to a throat sore from silent screams), he took a deep breath forcing his lungs to work “He threatened you. In the middle of the square he was making plans to have you killed.” As his anger settled he could see his mistake, (_fuck_) Yashiro looked smugly pleased with himself; of course, he had done it just to get this reaction, to get Tobirama angry, no one would back up Tobirama; it would be his word against an elder of the clan, and who would listen to the White Demon when he might just be fomenting discord? Madara looked at him and Tobirama felt as though the whole night held it's breath; he nodded his dark head and Tobirama forced himself not to sway at the sudden relief as Madara turned to Yashiro, already frowning “You threatened me? Planning my death in front of the whole clan?” Yoshiro sneered “Of course I didn’t! The White Demon wants us to be at odds! Can’t you see that Madara-sama? You are the clan head and family! Why would I ever want to hurt you? But him…” Madara’s eyebrows shot up (so did a fair few of his clansmen’s though Tobirama didn’t see it. The way Tobirama had jumped to Madara’s defense had had no planning, if it had he would have been more careful to show less of his strength, after all except for the one display with the comb he had been very careful not to show too much and make them wary). “You are accusing my husband of wanting to frame you?” he couldn’t have sounded more disbelieving and Tobirama wanted to cry again. Then Madara sighed and rubbed at his eyes, “You will come before the clan tomorrow Yashiro, as is customary, figure out a better excuse.” Tobirama felt himself go cold and he spun to look at his husband.


	13. hatch

“He _threatened_ you! He would have you dead Madara!” Madara was momentarily stunned (Tobirama had used his name) by the sheer icy fury in Tobirama’s voice as he hissed those words, “Tobirama, he has been indiscreet but the clan laws-“ “Would you rather he be _discreet_ about killing you!?” Madara took a careful step towards the Senju “Tobirama, I _believe_ you, but just threatening me isn’t enough for you to kill him- especially not _you_, not now darling-“ (_fuck,_ he said that out loud didn’t he, well shit, he hadn’t even know he was thinking that. Though after the display of power as he dealt with Yashiro he could be forgiven, _fucking god that was hot as fuck_)

The look Tobirama shot him was like ice “Fine. Then how about this: the Senju do not suffer those who kill children and _enjoy_ it to live. None of them remain in the clan, none have for _years_. The last of them I killed myself in the courtyard in front of the clan house when he thought to foment discord and a return to old ways again and gave himself away, gave me an _excuse_. Hashirama passed the sentence, killed the coconspirators and _I_ killed the man who slew Kurohime.” He took a tight step towards Madara, eyes dark and sharp. “He was on his knees in front of me after I chased him though the forest until I ran him to ground while the strongest in the clan bore witness, I killed him panting and exhausted on his knees. I killed him the same way he killed your sister Madara, and I told him I did it _your_ name. I _made sure_ he knew it was for what he did to you and your people that he was dying devoid of honor. _I did that_. And you tell me you can do nothing when you harbor the man who killed my little brother? The brother I raised? Itama was killed with no remorse- killed with _pleasure_\- as I felt it and am I _expected_ _to suffer his presence, **Husband**?_” Madara looked into burning red eyes- he was learning to love to seeing passion in them no matter the cause but- Tobirama took a step closer something desperate entering his eyes “Please, please do not ask me to live with the man who killed Itama and would have you dead as well? My brother _and_ my husband? Please”

Madara swallowed hard and stepped forward, carefully gathering the pale hands (so _cold_) in his own. “I-“ he was interrupted before he could say anything more- say _no, of course I won’t ask that of you_\- a high young voice piped up “Madara-sama! You can’t let him get away! You _can’t!_ He’s hurting Tobirama-sensei!” Madara’s head snapped around, eyes zoning in on Kagami, Sharingan spinning. “_What?!_” he snarled deeply- Tobirama’s hands tensed in his and he curled his fingers more fully around the other man’s, “It’s nothing, just trying to make me uncomfortable-“ “No! He was _touching_ you even though you hated it and wanted him to stop!” Madara’s vision went red as the implications hit and he slipped around Tobirama fast as flame on dry tinder, his hand slashing out in a spray of red. The light of the fires caught on it and turned the blood to glittering garnets as it rained through the air and Madara couldn’t contain his sheer vicious delight at the sight of Yashiro’s body tumbling to the ground with a bloody smile on his throat; _fuck _that felt good. Tobirama shifted behind him and Madara thought about the way the albino had looked when Kagami spoke (he needed to have a conversation with the boy soon if Tobirama wouldn’t tell him- which would be much better) and wished he had made the old man’s death more painful, wished he had made Yashiro feel even a fraction of the twisted pain that Madara had seen in Tobirama for a second; he wished that he had been able fight back his instincts enough to let Tobirama kill him (though it still wouldn’t have been good for a Senju to kill an elder, better Madara do it).

Madara stared down at Yashiro’s body and the blood spreading around him like a dark mirror in the flickering firelight, dropping the kunai with a sneer, ignoring the wet sound of metal and blood in dust. He turned to Tobirama, who was watching him with large shocked eyes (he looked so lovely in the firelight, it was Madara’s favorite look on him so far) that flicked down to his hand, Madara glanced down and was a little surprised to realize that his hand and forearm were painted red; he looked up and fought not to gape at the water his husband held out to him shaped as though it was sitting in an invisible dish (god his control). He shook his head a little as he obligingly washed his hand and arm in offered water, “You’re too good to me you know” he murmured. Tobirama hadn’t known if the startled look he got was any indication, his husband hesitated and then spoke “Well you did just kill someone for me.” Madara laughed a little, “I _was_ planning to let you do it, but, well, I rather lost my head. Apologies.” Tobirama’s eyes were softer than Madara had ever seen them and he couldn’t have stopped himself from reaching out if he tried- which he didn’t- brushing damp finger over a pale cheek and saying more quietly just for them, “Go into the house? I’ll talk to the clan.” Tobirama searched his eyes for a moment before nodded slowly dispersing the water with a thoughtless flick of his fingers and vanishing in a burst of broken light- Madara was fairly sure the hiraishin would always impress him. Damn it, he wanted to go be with his husband, who was clearly hurting, not out pacifying the clan; but when he turned to them more fully there were only a few angry faces, lots of shock but less anger than he would have expected.

Mikoto sighed, “We all heard what Tobirama-sama said, Yashiro killed his little brother cruelly and threatened you, honestly I’m just impressed he bothered to get your ok.” she paused something hot and angry sliding over her face “Very few of us liked him anyway, he was an awful power hungry old fuck and if he- if he did assault Tobirama-sama, well, he should have died worse.” This pronouncement came with a wave of murmured agreement from the clan and Madara just blinked at then until Kikiyo came up besides him, “They’re right, he’s _yours,_ it’s your right and responsibility to take care of him” and then quieter “we’ll take care of Kagami, Izuna is in the house, go to bed before your brother can say something and make it worse.” Madara swore softly and turned to leave, thoughts of the clan already relegated to the back of his mind as he focused fully on Tobirama. (Behind him the clan rolled their eyes, an Uchiha in defense of someone they loved was something they all knew well, and Madara was only fooling himself if he didn’t realize that.)

Izuna was- luckily- waiting for him in the front room rather than bothering Tobirama and the second Madara stepped inside his brother pounced, “What are you doing brother?!” Izuna was already angry and worked up, his face flushed and blotchy (why did he look… ashamed?) “I am going to take my shoes off, then I am going to check on my husband and talk to him for a while, including an apology for making him stay in the house- which was shit idea and a cruel thing to do.” (Madara couldn’t help but wonder if it was part of what had caused what Kagami had mentioned, _fuck_ if it had…) “You’re going to talk to _him_?” Madara grit his teeth, except no, he wasn’t doing this anymore “Izuna. You may not like this, and you may not like him, but he is my _husband_, and I fully intend to live up to that promise if I get the chance. I will always love you little brother” Madara sucked in a breath, this went against everything he had ever been taught but… (red eyes glinting in firelight above water gathered simply so Madara could wash his hands) “I will always love you, but if you make me choose you will not like the outcome. Good night little brother.”

“You killed a clan elder over him! If I had just finished my job and stabbed him properly you never would have done that, and he wouldn’t be tearing this clan apart!” Madara went cold, “When did you try to kill him?” he asked lowly, Izuna sneered at him (distantly Madara noticed something strange and torn in his brother’s face, but it didn’t matter, not now) “When the freak tried to kill me, what did you think I was going to do.” Madara sucked in a deep breath, _god_ this… this night kept just getting worse “You tried to kill my husband as he healed you? Izuna, if there is anyone that is tearing this clan apart it is _you_.” He turned and stormed from the room, he had a husband to see to.

He gave himself a good shake before knocking on Tobirama’s door, he wasn’t going to fuck this up the way he had last time he came to his husband’s door; sliding the door open was strangely nerve wracking and seeing Tobirama standing by the window, turning his happuri over in his hands, the metal looking liquid in the moonlight. “What is it Husband?” Madara sighed, “I think we’re past that aren’t we Tobirama? Can’t you just call me by my name?” Tobirama shifted, his sleep robe loose around him as he slid a look over at the Uchiha through his hair- for once uncontained by the happuri-, so beautiful in the silver light he took Madara’s breath away. “If that is what you would like Madara-sama.” He snorted tiredly and stepped more fully into the room, “That’s not what I meant, and you know it. We have things to talk about- a lot of them apparently- and we’ve never actually done that yet. But, Tobirama, did- did Izuna try to kill you?” Instantly all relaxation slid from Tobirama’s frame and he spun to face Madara “_No”_ he whispered through lips gone white “No, he didn’t do anything. Its fine. Hashirama can’t- it wouldn’t- please-“ increasingly confused Madara took a step closer “Tobirama, what-?” “Madara, please I swear Hashirama doesn’t know, I didn’t say anything, it’s not that he- he isn’t going to say anything, and you can say anything either! Touka would- but there’s nothing wrong- you’ve already seen the scar it’s all fine now-“

To Madara’s shock Tobirama stumbled forward and snatched his hand up, all neutrality drained from his face leave bare emotion written over it, “Please, it doesn’t matter, just-“ yeah, no, this wasn’t ok, Madara stepped into Tobirama’s space and gently covered the younger man’s mouth- Tobirama was _shaking_\- and then had to grab his elbow when he almost fell to his knees, “No, no, no, you don’t need to do that Tobirama, darling, please stop. It’s ok, I’m not going to do anything. I’m just trying to figure out what happened. I swear.” Fuck this was messed up; Tobirama was shaking and his eyes were wet, it was…. Well, he was always beautiful but this, Madara never wanted to see him like this again. “Um, ok, just- come here” it was easier than Madara anticipated to coax Tobirama into his arms and then to sit against the headboard on the bed Tobirama carefully tucked against his chest. If he hadn’t been trying to figure out how to calm the albino it would have been wonderful, but as it was he was just trying to get the _shaking_ to stop as he murmured “It’s alright, you’re alright, you’ve- you’ve been amazing, really amazing, I can’t begin to imagine what I’ve done to have you, darling, you’re the best thing to ever happen to me-“ his words stuttered as he felt Tobirama turn more fully into his chest and the cloth there grow wet. _Fuck, this sucked, he was going to **fuck up** anyone that was involved_. and he still had to ask as the younger man seemed to slowly calm, “You said I saw the scar, is that the one on your stomach? No, shit, stay here, I was just checking.” When the soft white hair brushed against his chest as Tobirama nodded Madara dropped his head back swearing mentally; that scar- he had to clear his throat to speak evenly- he couldn’t risk worrying his husband- “So, so as you healed him he stabbed you? Why, why did it heal so poorly? I didn’t think Hashirama was that tired. No, _stay_, I’m not going anywhere.”

Tobirama relaxed against him again slowly, “Izuna was just trying to protect himself” (Madara wasn’t sure he agreed with that in light of everything) “but if Touka had found out that he stabbed me she would have- well, peace would have been very difficult after that. So I just took care of it” he paused “I_ am_ a good healer, but I had already used everything I had on Izuna and it needed to be done quickly, so…” Madara was getting a bad feeling about this “so I just flash healed it. It’s…a very ugly technique, but it works and it doesn’t matter what I look like so-“ god this conversation _sucked_ “No. that’s- look I have lots of thoughts about this whole thing” (like how hard it would be to kill Hashirama, Hashirama who was very absent from this story) “but let’s start there; it’s not ok that Izuna did that, it’s not ok you had to heal yourself like that, and it’s _definitely _not true that you’re ugly.” At Madara’s words Tobirama pulled back sharply, looking shocked to the bone and Madara- Madara met Tobirama’s eyes- for once unguarded and open- and thought _oh. Oh. You. You are the Center of my entire world_. Tobirama must have seen whatever it was he was looking for because he reached out and touched Madara’s cheek, right under one eye, bewilderment and slow joy on his fey face “You actually mean that?” Madara shifted to bring a hand up and gently tug the white head back to his shoulder. “Fuck yes I mean that, you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen and you’re _mine_.” (that was a wonderful shiver) “But for now its been a shit day and after yesterday on top of it I’m exhausted, sleep, we’ll talk in the morning.” Neither of them would have the energy to make it far in a useful conversation tonight, but this; sleeping curled up with Tobirama was the best thing he could imagine.

Sometime in the early morning there was quiet knock on the door and Madara stirred slightly as Tobirama (!) shifted himself up to go answer, soft voices were preceded by a hesitant hand passing over his hair “To’ra?” Tobirama’s voice was amused if careful when he responded, “Go back to sleep Madara, Kagami is looking for me.” The Uchiha blew out a contented breath, “Like h’w you say my name” he slurred and fell asleep again to the quiet sounds of Tobirama dressing. He woke again some time later- a few hours at least- and while he mourned waking alone it didn’t really surprise him that Tobirama had gone and not come back, Madara would have to teach him how to let himself sleep for more than just the bare hours necessary; so it was with sleepy contentment that he set about preparing for the day and only when he was fastening his robe and reached for the comb- he normally carried it, but today maybe he would wear it- and his fingers brushed only cold _water_, that worry sank claws into his mind. For if the comb had _melted_ now, after all this time- “KIKIYO, find Tobirama, _now!_”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wives holding water so their husbands could wash their hands was a thing in the middle ages, If I find references I'll put them up here


	14. preen

Madara was sure he had never felt terror like this before in his life, it ate at him, chewing through every thought except getting to Tobirama (please let them find him in time) and his awareness of others dissolved if they weren’t helpful; for the most part he let Kikiyo take care of organizing. Someone had hurt Tobirama, that meant someone wanted the sabotage the peace, and the compound needed to be on lockdown- they needed to find who did it as well as find Tobirama- but Madara didn’t care in the slightest- Tobirama was missing and all Madara cared about was getting him fucking _back_. He slammed a hand against the floor and sent his chakra down and out, lashing and snapping throughout the compound searching for Tobirama (the Uchiha were suddenly reminded that for all his flailing and drama, for all his hidden kindness and work to be as fair as he could, Madara was every bit one of the two strongest shinobi in the world- without the cheat of mokuton- and when he let himself really go and focus he was _terrifying_).

(Izuna pressed closer to the wall watching with huge eyes as Madara lost it, all control over his chakra snapping as it washed out from him in stifling waves; Kikiyo stood near him her face strained from the chakra, but composed except for a pinch of worry between her brows. He didn’t know what to do or think, he hated Tobirama, deeply- he had never forgotten Reia’s death and the long moment he thought Tobirama was stealing his goddaughter’s eyes- but this… the way Madara was reacting to Tobirama’s absence…. The way Tobirama had threatened him two days ago, not for himself or the Senju or Hashirama, but for _Madara_, as if getting his brother hurt was the worst thing Tobirama could think of. Bad enough for him to display the power he had always before hidden, bad enough for him to use it on Izuna- which he had never done before, not for anything Izuna had done to anger him-; and if Kagami was right- and Izuna had seen the tell tale glint of red in his eyes yesterday- then things had gotten _so_ fucked up. Izuna never wanted that, not for anybody, not even the White Demon; if that had happened in part because of Izuna… he felt sick. Madara made a sound that rumbled up from deep in his chest from where he had crouched in the center of the room, surging to his feet Mangekyō Sharingan spinning wildly and vanished from the room faster than anyone could keep up. Izuna… Izuna had to be wrong. He had to be. There was no way Tobirama was Madara’s Center….. was there?)

Madara dropped to the ground behind the library where the window next to Tobirama’s normal table was with a heavy thud, all thoughts of control of shinobi grace gone from his head at the sight of Tobirama curled limply on the ground a pool of red spreading around him. It was only when Madara felt a fluttering faint pulse against his fingers that he was able to breath and he shoved a fraction of his chakra into Tobirama with a firm hand on his chest- he had no idea if it would help but- as the searched for the wound and spiked his own chakra to call attention to his position; there was a shallow stab wound on his abdomen (the opposite side from the scar Izuna gave him, _fuck_) and a much worse slash just above his elbow at the artery; only one proper cut, the other side just a nick, he must have scared them off when he first flared his chakra to find Tobirama. A second later Jiro was dropping at his side, Sharingan eyes taking in the wounds and as the healer flipping through the signs to stabilize him, “You gave him some chakra?” Jiro grunted as he pressed fingers the bleeding cut on Tobirama’s arm, Madara nodded all but robbed of words by the howling ache in his heart “Good that helps, he’s accepting it really well, uncommonly well. Most people resist chakra transfusions, it’s why we don’t bother with them much, pick him up for me we need to go to the hall, good thing we’re so close, in fact you can give him a bit more once he’s settled, I don’t know why he’s so low,” Jiro kept up a steady stream of words until Tobirama was placed on a bed and striped of his robe and undershirt.

Madara’s brain stuttered to a halt at the sight, torn between a sudden rush of admiration at how goddamn _beautiful_ he was and a deep ache at his too prominent bones; Madara was going to force better eating habits on him come hell or high water (and fucking kill Hashirama), just as soon as Tobirama woke up he was going to make him eat and then kiss him- provided Tobirama didn’t mind, but Madara thought it would be ok-, God, he had so many scars, many of them with the white stretched look of old wounds which actually made it worse somehow. Jiro hummed softly as he brushed green glowing hands over Tobirama his face gaining a pinched look as he did so until he took a deep breath and went back to start over at the top of the albino’s head for a full body scan. Vaguely Madara felt Kikiyo step up to his side and deposit Easha in his lap, the hand not griping Tobirama like he was the only thing keeping Madara breathing went to the soothing motion of petting the cat, it had been a while since he had seen her, too long. Jiro sat back with a sigh and pinched lips, worry written on his brow, “Jiro?” Kikiyo’s voice was calm and gentle as she prompted him and he rubbed his face tiredly “Ok, fuck, this is, bad.”

  
“So, starting most recently the wound on his elbow wasn’t to bad, just blood loss otherwise easy enough to fix, the abdominal wound… there’s poison Madara. And I don’t know what the fuck it is. I’ve neutralized it I think, but I don’t know how to reverse whatever it did, and he can’t fight is from the inside the way he should be able to because… I- I don’t know how to say this, um, Madara-sama he’s fucked up. Like, has been for a long time, I don’t even know where to start; long term malnutrition of varying degrees (all shinobi have some but this is worse than usual), sever exhaustion- he needs some fucking sleep-, and more wounds than I really know what to do with. It’s like there was a healer using him as a practice dummy for fucks sake, like, look here? This, as far as I can tell it was done three times and each one was healed- with improvement each time- but with techniques I don’t even know. And the eye damage! It’s like someone put acid in them and then healed it most of the way (which is fucking impressive) and then stopped, even under that there is some serious chakra overuse strain in the tenketsuin; I don’t even know where to start, he has chakra circulating everywhere in his body at all times as far as I can tell just to give him full range of motion and pain relief.”

Madara closed his eyes and just breathed, listening to the faint pulse of Tobirama’s cool chakra (cool mist, river mint, and rosehips- like his scent. And of course it was the chakra he had felt in his office, of course it was) and trying to push everything else out of his mind because a horrible suspicion was forming in his mind; “used him as a practice dummy” fucking hell, and then he flash healed himself after Izuna stabbed him without much thought to his own comfort; there was no way he could have known that Tobirama was doing this to himself, but _Hashirama_ should have. “Madara,” Kikiyo’s quiet voice started him out of his plotting to kill his former friend and he raised an eyebrow at her, she sighed and sat next to him where she could see his face, “Madara did you know how he and Kagami met? I should tell you.” It was a story that made his chest hurt even worse (taking care of the clan even then husband?) and the way she described Tobirama’s relationship with Kagami… when the story was done he sighed and asked her to go find the boy, there was no way the he wasn’t desperate to see the albino and he wouldn’t be let in the private room without Madara or Kikiyo (Izuna was banned until Madara could trust that he had nothing to do with this).

After she was gone he cleared his throat and asked Jiro without opening his eyes “What are the chances?” Jiro stilled and then went back to his careful analysis of all the injuries, “I don’t know Madara-sama, it’s up to him and fate now. I’ll give him everything I can, but he has to _want_ to pull through this to live; your chakra definitely helps though.” Madara swallowed hard and refused to open his eyes as he said “Do you think Kikiyo would be a good clan head? I don’t trust Izuna.” Jiro froze, Madara could feel it in the air. “Madara-sama?” he asked hesitantly, Madara croaked a laugh “I don’t think the Uchiha should be led by a Center-broken Uchiha.” Jiro’s aching heart-hurt noise was a perfect accompaniment to Madara’s shaky breathing. The healer didn’t ask if he was sure- no Uchiha would get this wrong- and he didn’t try to give platitudes, a Center-broken Uchiha was one that had lost the ability to care about what they still had; going slowly mad the harder they looked for their Center and found them absent, it wasn’t a person fit to lead. “I’ll get a larger bed brought it.” Jiro said softly and Madara nodded. A moment later he heard the quiet untrained footsteps of a child and forced himself into something a little like composure. Tobirama wouldn’t want him to frighten the boy.

Kagami was staring at the bed with Sharingan red eyes and tear-stains on his face, looking like he expected the man to die any minute- thank god they had covered him with a light blanket. “Kagami” to boy's head snapped around and Madara waved him over, less surprised than he could have been when Kagami promptly climbed into his lap and leaned against his chest to watch Tobirama, “You need to turn the Sharingan off, it will hurt you and there is nothing you need it for here.” Kagami shook his head shaking a little and Easha leapt softly into the boy’s arms from the bed she had moved to when he entered to room; it took a while but Madara managed to get him calm and the Sharingan inactive, but now Madara had to ask what had happened this morning after Tobirama had left. Apparently Kagami had come to the house to ask after the albino and been told he was still asleep but that Kikiyo would wake him and Tobirama would meet him in the library as he usually did, after that Tobirama had just never shown up.

Damn it, Madara needed to know what had happened with Yashiro; if there was any chance there was information there that could help Tobirama he needed it, as much as he hated to push the kid to remember the thing that had probably given him the Uchiha Kekkei Genkai. The story came out in fits and starts, Kagami hadn’t seen anything at first, but what he had heard had made him look and… Madara’s anger beat against him like a forest fire, he hadn’t hurt Yashiro enough, it had been to easy and too quick damn it. To have sent Tobirama into a flashback- because that sure as hell was what it sounded like- and tried to rape him at the same time? All his tendons ached with the need to burn something- anything- to the ground (he had ideas about that flashback, he hadn’t forgotten Tobirama’s words “killed with pleasure- as I felt it” and the implications _hurt_) but he forced himself to sound sane as he asked if Kagami thought it had happened before.

It was some small relief that the boy was fairly sure it hadn’t- everyone knew he would kill anyone that laid a finger on Tobirama well before he did apparently- but hearing about Tobirama’s lonely days punctuated only by Kagami, the cats- and once in a while himself or Kikiyo- ached (apologies wouldn’t cut it when Tobirama woke up, and _he was going to_), as did Kagami’s certainty that though the elder had never touched him like that before he knew Yashiro talked to Tobirama and touched his hand and such- which was plenty traumatizing- as well as Izuna spreading bile and cruelty when he could and Madara wasn’t around (Madara didn’t know what he was going to do with his brother, but It wouldn’t be fun). Madara... didn’t know how to make this right other than just refuse to leave Tobirama again and hope Tobirama cared for him half as much as Madara cared about the albino (he thought his chances were good, last night had been promising at least, the way he had leaned into Madara certainly had seemed like it might mean something) but that meant Tobirama _had_ to wake up, and that was very up in the air (and Madara’s sanity with it).


	15. caw

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> migraines so this is less clean than normal, may go over it again later to fix shit when I can see again. (but thought you would like it now even messy)

Madara stirred a little when he heard to door opened but didn’t look up from the white head tucked against his chest, Tobirama had been unconscious for over twenty-four hours now (Madara had lost track of the town) and Madara had to push down the increasing worry bubbling in his chest; fuck, the first thing he had done when Kagami left with his newly recovered but wan mother was crawl into bed with Tobirama and he hadn’t been pried from the other man since (not that anyone had really tried very hard). Easha had spent most of that time tucked against him purring softly (he could hardly feel it through the creeping numbness slicing through him) while he did his best to soak Tobirama in his chakra; every time he sent another wave across the younger man Tobirama shifted into him and the tight lines of his face eased, it was like somehow he could feel Madara- and feeling him was _comforting_ to Tobirama, thank god- which was more than enough reason to curl with him and never move. (they fit together in a way he had never anticipated, it was _so good_) It was strange, he could see the sun move across the floor and feel the cool light of the moon, but all of that seemed distant and on the other side of a pane of thick glass (he had almost drowned once as a child, he remembered seeing the sky flicker above him and the echoing warping of noise around him, that was what it was like to wait for his husband to die- slowly drowning) but nothing that happened felt like it could touch him.

Jiro crossed his vision (he looked concerned and tired, Madara should care, he just…) and softly brushed green glowing hands over Tobirama’s back, “Your chakra is helping Madara-sama, maybe all he needs is time. It’s soothing him, his chakra is easing and flowing smoother. Keep doing that if you can.” Madara hummed distantly, of course he wasn’t going to stop, he could feel the way Tobirama turned into it every time he did it and that comfort was the only thing he wanted to give his husband; Tobirama had had far to little comfort in his life and Madara couldn’t bear it if he never had the chance to change that. Jiro sighed quietly and bowed slightly as he slipped out of the room again; the sun passed over the wall and Kagami peeked into the room, crawling into the bed on the other side of Tobirama and curling up there, Madara blinked and the boy was gone as the last of the sun filtered in through the trees. Easha shifted and stocked around to sit in front of him looking at Madara with wise eyes, “Do you want him to wake up?” He blinked at her, startled by her sudden voice- she had never talked before to his knowledge so why now?- and it took longer than it should for her words to filter through “Yes,” he rasped “you know I do.” Easha sighed, “I can’t make that happen, but maybe if you know more about him it will give you an idea- it can’t hurt.”

Madara frowned a little, the ache of his face as it moved told him how long it had been since he had spoken, “How am I to do that?” Easha eyed him “You know he did that to his eyes himself, don’t you want to know why? I bet you can find it in his desk. After that, well, I’ve been in the Senju compound for weeks, I know things about his youth that might help you call him back.” Madara stared at her, her word filtering into his brain slowly; he sat up sluggishly as he sorted through it- to figure out what was going on with Tobirama’s _eyes_\- but Tobirama made a quiet sad sound as he sat up and moved away. Madara brushed a gentle hand over his head trying to sooth him again as the younger man shifted to curl his body around Madara, pressing his nose to the Uchiha’s hip; Madara swallowed, how was he supposed to leave him? What if something happened while he was gone? And Madara’s presence seemed so calming to Tobirama- seemed to be the only thing that could calm him- how was he supposed to leave his husband unhappy and tense and stressed? Torn between his need to help and his inability to leave, “Easha…” The cat snorted and stood up with a twitch of the tail, “He’s your Center, isn’t he? Tether your chakra to him and you can come back as soon as there’s a problem. _Madara,_ don’t you want to know? He deserves you to know what you can about him.” Madara rubbed at his forehead, she wasn’t wrong but, how could he leave? (but Easha had never spoken before had she, it _must_ _matter_) Easha made an impatient noise, “_Madara!”_ _fuck,_ “Ok, ok, just- let me take a moment.”

Madara leaned down, tugging Tobirama until he could bury his nose in soft white hair; “Ok, darling, I have to go now. Not for long, I’ll be back soon and maybe I’ll know how to help more, so just… hang on ok? Wait for me, please, I know you have had to do that for months but, just a little longer love, please.” Tobirama gave a soft noise but his fingers relaxed where they were clenched in Madara’s hair; the Uchiha swallowed hard and pressed a firm kiss to his forehead, running a thick strand of chakra through his lips and then pulling back and gently pulling one white lashed eye open till he could use the Sharingan to tether their chakra together. It took another long moment after that to pull himself away from his husband (he was going to make that true as soon as Tobirama woke up, he was going to woo the fuck out of him) before he brushed a firm hand down white hair and forced himself to ignore the small sad sound that Tobirama made as soon as Madara puled away from him completely; Easha made an impatient sound, tail lashing “Let’s _go._” Madara nodded and dragged himself away, nodding at Mikoto- who was watching the door- on the way out and asking her to send Kagami in to keep Tobirama company while he was gone (Kagami wasn’t sure how to get past his part in Tobirama’s injury, unknowing though it may have been, and he would keep a good eye on the albino).

Madara followed Easha’s lashing tail to Tobirama’s study and looked around in curiosity- he had never been here before, not since Tobirama took up residence anyway- it was neat and there was only a small scattering of paper over the desk, god he needed to convince his husband to trust that this was going to last long enough for him to make it his own. Another thing to add to his list (apologies, woo, convince of permanence, ravish, beat Hashirama, ravish, force to eat right, ravish, admire while fighting/thinking/teaching, ravish, apologize, ravish, overwhelm with affection, woo, ravish, _fucking acid_, ravish, etc.), Madara was getting worried about how long that list was, Tobirama _needed_ to wake up of he could never even get to any of it and Madara

(couldn’t handle that)

Easha purred pleased as Madara settled himself down at the desk and carefully opened the drawers after going over the desk (notes on the clan celebrations and living, with a large chunk that was devoted entirely to the way orphans were treated in the clan and how to improve it. Sometimes Madara wondered how Tobirama was a person not a dream), the things in the desk were… agonizing. Madara stared at the fully formed plans for a village, _his_ village; blueprints with doodles and notes and comments in the margins (a doodle of Izuna drawn like a chubby cartoon with an oversized pout, a set of nasty complaints about Hashirama, and in the back a rather long speculation about the softness of Madara’s _hair_), god, if Madara hadn’t already been in love with his husband this would have done it. Easha shifted impatiently, “You can coo over his tax plans _later_; look in the bottom drawer, you should be keyed into the wards- he wouldn’t lock anything away from you, just Izuna- so just _open _it.” Madara shot her a dirty glance and reluctantly put down the papers to check; as Easha said the wards, though strong, were completely open to him. Inside…. Notes, _extensive_ notes on new jutsu, healing things that were largely old (damn it, he had been right, _that_ was how Tobirama had gotten those older scars) and that he forced himself not to look at to carefully for now (_how_ had Hashirama not noticed?) because it was past the point he could help. And under those, notes on the Kekkei Genkai seal Tobirama had mentioned in the library, and under _that_… there was no way to miss the purpose of those diagrams about the Sharingan chakra flow, Tobirama was working on a fix for the Sharingan deterioration so that there would be no need for transplants- and the associated risks- anymore; but the more recent notation- _fuck_, Madara had seen enough of his husbands writing to know it wasn’t normally that shaky and uneven. And _“preliminary testing with midlevel irritant has had success in right eye, reduced vision almost restored, shall progress to higher level irritant on left eye. Progress promising.”_ God.

How had Tobirama decided that this was ok? _Why_ did he think this was the right way to go about this kind of jutsu development? This sort of thinking doesn’t develop in a vacuum and he can’t have been good at it at first, why had no one seen the way he was hurt and what he was sacrificing? And would Madara ever be able to change that thought pattern? If it was this ingrained at this point was there anyway for him to convince Tobirama that he was vital to Madara? And- wait. _Oh. Right. _It didn’t even matter, Tobirama was balanced on a thin edge of death and why would he even want to live if _this _was what he thought he had to come back to. How could Madara convince him that it was worth waking up for Madara alone when he had nothing else (<strike>maybe… he did like Madara’s chakra and hair?)</strike>, distantly Madara realized that he was going cold and there was a ringing in his ears. “Madara-sama, did you know that when Tobirama came back from the battle where he healed your brother- a very difficult and complex healing- he went immediately into the healing wing and was there until late in the evening? This after a meeting with his brother.” Easha’s voice seemed to echo down a long tunnel at him and his own voice sounded as if it wasn’t even his own when he responded, “Izuna stabbed him. He said he ‘flash healed’ himself so that no one would know Izuna had so little honor. He healed Izuna, then himself- painfully-, ran home, met with Hashirama, worked with the healers, and _no one noticed_.”

Madara must have blacked out a little, he remembered bursting out of Tobirama’s office and throwing out a basic but over powered ward, he had a crystal clear memory of leaning over his husband and pressing his nose into white hair with a deep breath, exploding out of the gates to the startled shouts of his clan, blurs of the trees and he scorched his way through them. The tall wooden walls of the Senju compound and the shinobi watching them were nothing more than a passing note in his mind (as was Easha perched on his shoulder somehow), it was moments before he tore his way into Hashirama’s second floor office and slammed the taller man into the wall with a hand tight on the throat of his once friend.


	16. sing

Madara stared hard at Hashirama for a long moment breathing sharply through his nose as Hashirama stared at him in naked shock, (the look on his face was more devoid of his usual dramatics than Madara had ever seen) he was dragging in sharp little breaths through Madara’s hand on his throat and behind them he heard Mito’s voice fighting for calm “Madara-sama, what an unexpected surprise. Would you please put my husband down?” He _knew_ Mito was dangerous (knew that in a sudden battle without preparation he could kill her) but he _couldn’t_\- Easha’s voice in his ear pierced through the veil in his mind “Madara, how fares your husband?” Madara jerked sharply and stepped back throwing Hashirama to land in a slumped pile against a wall by his wife as the Uchiha tipped his head back sending his chakra racing back through the thread that connected them; Tobirama was a dim, cool, presence in his mind, glowing and beautiful and so _weak_, Madara couldn’t breathe. “Madara?” Hashirama’s voice was tentative and uncertain when it started him out of his focus and his head snapped around to look at the Senju; he didn’t know what his faced looked like and probably didn’t want to (like a mad god silhouetted in light and smoldering flames from the wall he had destroyed in his way in with his eyes spinning) if the way Hashirama recoiled back and angled himself to protect Mito’s back even as she had his. (Easha purred in a whisper “Don’t forget what you are here for”)

Hashirama’s face was getting darker and harder as he looked at Madara, “Mada-“ “_Hashirama_. If I had the chance to make you see what you have _done_-“ except; he could, couldn’t he? Madara stepped closer to Hashirama and gave a twisted smile “Hashirama, do you know how your brother is? I will tell you, because of your neglect and casual disregard Tobirama- my **_husband_**\- is on the edge of death in the Uchiha compound; and somehow he _is still safer there than he was with you_.” Hashirama was white as a sheet, “_W__hat?”_ he croaked, Madara tilted his head “Do you want to know Hashirama?” he purred. Shocked and afraid (_good_) the Senju nodded and Madara lunged Mangekyō Sharingan in full function (normally this might not work, but Hashirama was shocked and off balance, and he _had said yes_) dragging Hashirama into Madara’s memories; all the memories of the times Madara wondered how the hell Tobirama had become so hurt, every time he hadn’t understood Hashirama’s choices, every time Tobirama hurt because of the way he was raised and neglected. Madara stepped back watching as Hashirama went even paler and starting to shake, sliping back to the ground under the weight of the memories; Mito shifted in front of him protectively, “What is wrong with Tobirama?” Madara forced himself to refocus on her and shoved down the boiling twisting despair in his mind. It was hard to make himself think and Easha at his ear that started him out of it with the sharp prick of claws, “Mito. He’s-“ Madara couldn’t, he _couldn’t_

(what if he never?)

Distantly he heard Easha explaining what had happened to Mito and it was only when the Lady Senju said “And why are you _here_ instead of with him?” that Madara dragged air into his lungs “Mito, do you know anything that might help me convince him to wake up? A reason to wake?” Mito shook her head slowly, so Madara forced himself to choke out the words “An Uchiha with a broken-Center-” (he felt like he was falling apart) and Easha took over for him as his voice failed “The Center for an Uchiha is when chakra and Sharingan become entranced with someone, so tangled up in each other that they might as well be two halves of a whole, an Uchiha with a Center is more stable than any other unless the Center dies; then it is followed by **madness**, always.” Madara swallowed and when he spoke it came easier than anything else he had ever said, spoken to the darkness of his eyelids and fingers of chakra hooked into Tobirama’s flickering presence “The moment I looked into his eyes and he dropped all his walls, the second he let me _see him_ I was lost. He is the north star in my world and my eyes will always return to him above all others. He is all that I dream of and that which I will always look for in and room. He is the Center of my Sharingan and of every memory and moment burned in my eyes he is the deepest.” His eyes snapped opened, lashes sticky with blood, and stared straight at Mito “There is no world for me without him in it.”

Easha sighed, shifting closer, “I _am_ sorry Madara-sama, I thought you would find something to help in his things or here, I…. didn’t anticipate how close the madness is dogging you. I’m sorry, let us go home to your husband, there is nothing for you here. And you never wanted to come anyway, I shouldn’t have pushed you.” Madara nodded numbly and turned to the blasted wall, “Madara, Hashi-“ “Will wake whenever he is done with what I showed him.” Madara’s voice was cold and empty as he responded and leapt from the building. There was a blank in his mind where the trip home should have been and it seemed like he blinked and was curled around Tobirama as closely as possible again, relishing in the way that the albino turned into him with a soft grateful mew- god why had he left? He couldn’t remember already, nothing mattered other than this moment and Tobirama’s soft breath against his neck and being as closely as possible.

(Mito sank slowly to her knees next to her husband- still caught in the genjutsu Madara had put him in; shaking, pale, and silent tears dripping down his cheeks- this was like a nightmare; Tobirama walking the edge of death and Madara already going mad with grief, if they lost one they would loose both and Mito didn’t know how they would pick up the pieces.)

(Kikiyo stared at the quiet summons, “You thought it would _help_ to pull Madara away form Tobirama?” Easha’s nose twitched “I though it would help to get him out and about, that if I could get him engaged with what was going on he could be coaxed into helping with the search at the very least.” Kikiyo wanted to scream “Tobirama is his _Center_, taking Madara away from him was never a good idea!” The cat hissed sharply “_Don’t _talk to me like that, my duty is to this clan and it’s preservation is my first priority. Madara has been one of the best clan heads we have ever had, I have no interest in loosing him when the Senju dies.” “You act like it is a done deal! He could pull through and Tobirama makes him better, even in the last two months he has made him better. If nothing else knowing he has someone at his back when he can’t have faith in anyone else has given him strength!” Easha looked away, her ears going back. Kikiyo watched her for a long moment; the summons was one of the oldest and had been around the compound longer than she could remember, silent and listening- Madara’s confidante when things were really bad- and she had always thought she could trust Easha. It stung to see the cat so distant from what Madara cared about, to be so focused on the well-being of the clan that she didn’t understand what they had come to mean to each other; did no one care about keeping them together except them and her? Even though they were so clearly happier together, Kikiyo wanted them to be _together_ more than anything, whatever that meant- please let it not mean death-.

She turned away, she couldn’t change what was done and would only have to hope that nothing was damaged because of it; she walked to Madara’s side and pressed a gentle hand over his eyes grimacing at the tacky blood, it took extreme precision to use chakra to turn off another’s Sharingan but it was possible and Madara was all but comatose so he wouldn’t do it himself. When she drew her hand away his eyes were closed and she could feel the change in the chakra, she hadn’t turned it off all the way but at least it wasn’t in Mangekyō anymore; if they survived this his eyes might very well be ruined- but they would be _alive_\- and though it would be difficult for the clan head to be blind, maybe Tobirama could do something about it. For now she had to keep a clan whole and find whoever wanted to kill Tobirama. Thank god Izuna was helping as much as he could for all that he had never been involved in anything more than talking about how upset he was and better ways to keep an eye on the White Demon, lots of talking no action- thank Kami- he still had a sense for who might have been involved. Kikiyo was unsurprised that Yashiro had been at the center but there was another presence here, one she could only see by the outlines it’s shadow left as it clung to the shadows; it was driving her nuts, she should be able to find this, they called her the lady of smoke for a reason damnit!)

“Darling, I think I must be the biggest fool in the world. To have lived with the you for months and never understood what was happening to you, how you were suffering…. I-“ Madara pressed his lips to the shell of a pale ear “I will- I – I understand if you can’t make yourself come back to pain, but- _I will follow you_. So please, come back, I will make things better this time. **_Please._**” (pale fingers flexed in dark hair, Madara didn’t feel the weak tug) Madara pressed impossibly closer, Jiro said that the longer he went without waking the less likely Tobirama would ever wake; Madara knew what he would do, had already started it down the path (when the Mangekyō Sharingan was active too long it didn’t just blind; though there were very few that had done this it had been used this way before) as Tobirama faded Madara followed him down and he had no intention of stopping the spiral. “Madara-sama? They're asking for you outside, they may have found the… person who hurt Tobirama-sama.” Mikoto’s voice was careful as she addressed him, and he could hardly force himself to move (to _breath_) not even for the revenge he should want more than anything, “Madara. You need to come take care of this so the clan can get closure if nothing else. They need to see you next me if you want this to work.” It was Kikiyo this time, much more authoritative than Mikoto and it was only because she was right about the clan that he allowed her to pull him out of the bed (he was _so tired_) with one last brush of his hand down Tobirama’s back (_“be back soon darling, wait for me”_).


	17. fly

The entire clan was gathered in the square when he stepped out- Kikiyo had wiped as much of the blood from cheeks as she could but the red was still unmistakable in even the flickering light- and they turned to look at him, (he could see some of them wince as they saw him and the Mangekyō Sharingan) even as watchful eyes were kept on the man kneeling in front of the door. It was Yare, a younger man and not one Madara would have expected to hold sufficient grudge against Tobirama to do this, but clearly he didn’t know his clan the way he had thought he did; and there was a look of sullen anger on his face that faded to ashy fear as he saw Madara. “Did you stab my husband- _my Center_ Yare?” He swallowed hard, Madara could see his throat move in the firelight, “No.” He said as firmly as he could from his knees and shaking with something between fear and righteous anger. “You _lie. _You spent too much time with Yashiro to not be involved and I found that vial in your house.” Madara’s head snapped to the side, an emotion other than numb heartache stirring in him for the first time in a long time; Izuna was standing one the third side of the square between Yare and Madara, a look of forced bravery on his young face (he looked so much younger than Tobirama…) as he turned to his brother.

“Madara-sama I-“ Madara interrupted him calmly “You knew he was a threat to Tobirama, and you protected him?” Izuna stumbled “I didn’t know he would do this-“ “But you knew something, you knew something, and you did nothing.” Something was stirring in Madara’s stomach, he could feel the Sharingan spin faster and he- he just- “I wanted to protect you!” Izuna shouted looking desperate, and flames roared into being in Madara “From my _husband_?!” he said in dangerously slow voice. Izuna was beginning to look angry himself now “_From the White Demon!_” Madara’s mind filled with the roar of a wildfire, “You will not call him that. If you refuse to see you don’t _need eyes._” He hissed and lunged-

There was a flash of white in the corner of his eye and a _voice_ “Madara!” his head snapped around, the hand reaching for his brother’s face falling as everything in him snapped to attention because- “_Tobirama_” he gasped harshly stumbling to a stop feeling as though the whole world had stopped. “Madara, please, he’s stupid but he wanted to help you no matter how he went about it. You don’t _want_ to do this.” Tobirama stepped off of the thin deck around the building and walked carefully towards Madara, he could see the albino was in pain (and far, far to pale) but he didn’t- he couldn’t- he- Tobirama’s brow furrowed a little as he got closer, “Why are you using the Sharingan? Especially the Mangekyō Sharingan? You are going to make your eyes worse.” The sound Madara made had only a passing resemblance to the human voice, a hurt animal sound but he didn’t want to turn off the Sharingan; he never wanted to forget this, the way Tobirama looked _awake_ (glowing in the red-orange light, his hair turned to the heart of flame and skin to shining pearl, and his _eyes-!_ Red as garnets- so much better than the Sharingan- and every bit as open as they had been the first time Madara looked in them and knew). Tobirama was starting to look uncertain and Madara couldn’t let that happen, never again; he closed the distance between them and framed that pale vulpine face with a shaking hand, “Tobirama, darling, you’re awake.” He was utterly unashamed of the way his voice broke on the words; especially when his husband turned into the caress, “I didn’t dream that then? You- you were with me?” Tobirama’s voce was uncertain and quiet as he spoke and Madara couldn’t stop the wet laugh as he brought his other hand up, tears joining blood on his face.

“Yes, of course I was. You came back for me?” Madara asked, Tobirama smiled at him- shy and adorable- “If you want me.” How long was it going to take for Madara to erase that tentative tone from his voice? Not that it mattered, as long as it took. “Always, Tobirama, I will always want you darling.” Madara stepped closer and pressed their foreheads together, Tobirama raised a hand and touched a careful finger under his eye; Madara sighed and let the Mangekyō Sharingan slip away, blowing out a grateful breath as it was followed by a wash of soothing cool chakra. Tobirama tutted softly under his breath “What did you make such a mess of your eyes for bright hawk?” and Madara had to laugh a little, it probably wouldn’t do much good to explain that it was for him, not yet anyway. Later maybe, now that they would _have_ a later. Tobirama must have been thinking much the same thing as he pulled away- Madara didn’t let him go far, keeping an arm tucked around the slim waist and his husband pulled close- and turned of Izuna who was watching them with huge eyes that he jerked away as soon as he saw that he had Madara’s attention; Tobirama glanced around and grimaced when he saw Yare, “He’s the one who stabbed me, though I think he had help of some sort to hide his chakra and there may have been poison involved. What are you going to do with him?” Madara sighed and shook his head, “He tried to kill you, he almost succeeded, but even so… if he was working with someone we need to know who. I want him dead but-“ “It will have to wait” agreed Tobirama easily (Madara was reminded that if it hadn’t been to protect _him_ Tobirama probably wouldn’t have said anything about Yashiro either). He looked at Mikoto, a little surprised by the naked relief on her face as she look at them, had he really been that bad? Silly question probably. The woman gave him a firm nod and stepped forward to cuff Yare, she would treat on him with extreme prejudice after he had almost gotten Kagami involved in his plot to kill Tobirama (Madara might not be bale to kill Yare- _yet_\- but he wasn’t a nice man, a little pain wasn’t something he was adverse too).

Tobirama sagged against him and Madara was reminded suddenly of how bad of shape the younger man had been in earlier and he looked at Kikiyo (her face a picture of gratitude as she looked at them together), “I’m taking my husband to bed, everything else can be handled later. Mikoto, also, tell Kagami Tobirama is awake in the morning, it’s too late to do it now, but give us a little time to sleep in before he wakes us up.” Mikoto nodded and slipped away towing Yare and followed by two other grim faced Uchiha that Madara trusted. (Madara didn’t even look as Izuna as he turned away, how could he? Shame and anger twisting together in a sick sullen burn <strike>at his brother? At himself?</strike>) He and Tobirama returned to the main house- no way he was sleeping in the healing hall again- the younger man rested heavier against him and Madara could feel the pull of his own critically low chakra as they tumbled straight into Madara’s bed together; Madara simply refusing to let him go when Tobirama made to leave him alone (he would be doing a lot of this wouldn’t he? God he was looking forward to it) and just dragging the albino into bed with him, letting up long enough only to kick his shoes and over robes off. Tucked together in bed Tobirama was stiff and uncertain for a long moment before he relaxed all at once turning into Madara and burrowing in as close as he could, seeming desperate for contact and knotting his fingers in the Uchiha’s long hair (the pull was a delicious reminder of Tobirama’s presence every time he moved) before dropping off hard and fast into sleep; Madara reveled in the trust that his husband displayed with that, it was better than any battle high to have a such a self sufficient man lean into him this way. He tucked his nose into moonlight hair and just breathed, unashamed of the tears that slid down his cheeks in a steady stream even as he too fell asleep.

Morning came with the slanting of sun over the wall and Madara had one heart stopping moment where he was positive that last night hadn’t happened; that Tobirama was still in the hospital and Madara was watching the day pass from the light on the wall. He couldn’t breath for the sudden fear that spiked through him until fingers- _still_\- clenched in his hair tightened and Tobirama blinked awake; red eyes sleepy and body sketching out a _beautiful _arch against Madara’s own. Tobirama blinked at him in surprised, “You’re here?” he asked bewildered and beautiful in the morning light, and Madara frowned “Of course I am, why-“ Tobirama shifted as if to pull away and Madara’s arms tightened; reluctantly the albino settled but still wouldn’t look him in they eyes “You weren’t there when I woke last night.” He admitted quietly and Madara felt his heart clench, he should have thought of that, “I had to take care of Yare, I needed it to be clear that Kikiyo was my choice as the next clan head.” Tobirama jerked hard in his arms, eyes snapping to Madara’s. “_What?_ Why do you need a new clan head? Is something wrong?! Are you hurt?!” The albino was working himself into a tailspin of fear as he yanked back far enough to get a full look at Madara to check for injury, Madara sighed and flipped them, cadging Tobirama with his arms as he pinned the younger man to the bed (the stunned shiver this got him was delightful). Madara pressed a soft kiss to the pale forehead, his hair making a dark curtain around them (except the section Tobirama was _still_ holding on to, Madara loved it) as he spoke, “I’m fine, or- I will be now that you’re awake. No, let me explain- it’s… complicated. Have you ever run across references to Uchiha Centers?”

Tobirama frowned and Madara took a moment to revel in watching that astonishing mind work from up close, he was pretty sure he would never get tired of seeing Tobirama turn ideas over in his mind as he thought through a problem; the albino nodded slowly as he retrieved a reference from one of the Uchiha history texts “It’s a rare, very rare, but well know phenomena in the clan. When the chakra of an Uchiha’s eyes gets entangled in another person’s chakra- and idea the requires more familiarity with the concepts of chakra’s interaction with the soul than most possess- and it becomes impossible for them to access their Sharingan- i.e. chakra in this case- without feeling the tug of their Center.” Madara snorted and dropped his head to press his nose to Tobirama’s neck for a moment before pulling back “I know for a fact no Uchiha has ever described it like that. And it’s a bit more than that anyway, but did you read what happens to my clan when we lose our Centers?” clever red eyes were watching him intently as Tobirama nodded slowly, “Madness. It come out in any number of ways, but always madness.” Madara shifted and brushed his fingers though soft white hair, “Yes. Always. Now, do you know what you are to me?” He watched closely as the realization sunk through Tobirama, shock on disbelief painting over his unusually expressive face “If you don’t believe me ask anyone else. Ask Kikiyo who was preparing to take over m position when I followed you, ask Jiro who was trying to wake you as I deteriorated, ask Mito who saw my madness firsthand. Ask my clan who already mourned me when it seemed you would never wake. Everyone of them will tell you the same thing, you are _my_ Center with everything that entails, and when you lay almost in death so to did I follow you even there.”

Tobirama jerked a hand up pressing the back of it to his mouth and staring at Madara with glassy wet eyes; his fingers flexed and his chakra snapped out as if to disperse an illusion, when nothing happened he look almost more distressed than before and Madara had no idea what was going on “Tobirama? What-“ “I don’t- _I don’t understand_. Things like this don’t happen to me, I don’t- I went to sleep and you were so _kind_ to me you said you were there while I was asleep and I _remember_ your chakra and it made me come back but you _weren’t_ _there_ and now you- this- I don’t-“ he was starting to shake again, the way he had after Madara asked him about the scar (how often was he going to have to help Tobirama through a breakdown? Was this a Tobirama thing or a situation thing?) so the Uchiha did the only thing he could think of; he shifted them until the younger man was tucked against him, completely tangled up, and raised a shifting wave of his- still too low- chakra to press down into Tobirama. The reaction was instantaneous, Tobirama _melted_ against him, going boneless and relaxed in a second with a soft little sound; and as wonderful as that was it was also probably best not to keep doing it, Madara wanted his husband to _remember_ this conversation and it seemed he might not if Madara kept doing it (something to remember).

“I know this is all a bit- a lot- sudden for you darling, it must be strange I’m guessing, but you are my Center and before you were that you were my husband; you have always been important to me even though I have _failed_ utterly in showing it. I had no idea things got that bad for you, it’s not an excuse- no stop, even with everything I should have noticed- but if I had I swear I would have done something, not sure what, but something. I loved you before you looked me in the eyes and became my Center though I didn’t really know it, and I failed in seeing what was happening; but Tobirama, _you should have told me_. I know there must have been reason you didn’t but I’m betting that the largest was that you simply didn’t feel it mattered?” Tobirama curled a little tighter, he clearly _hated_ Madara apologizing if the way he was whispering under his breath was any indication (_“please stop apologizing, please stop, please, you didn’t do anything, please stop_”) “That not ok darling. It’s really, really not. I know you can’t help the way you think but…. How about a deal? I won’t apologize to you for not seeing what was happening sooner and you _promise _me you will be more careful with yourself, if not for yourself than because you are my Center and it hurts me that you hate yourself so much.” Tobirama shivered against him for a long moment but nodded eventually, Madara pressed a grateful kiss to his hair and hummed a soft deep song until the albino’s breathing was even again. (It wasn’t perfect, Madara would rather apologize more- Tobirama deserved it- but he had only promised for the one offence and that left him lots of things to cover when Tobirama didn’t shut down as soon as the topic came up. Something for the future.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm starting to feel better, thank you everyone


	18. soar

Eventually the knowledge of the passing of time pricked at Madara enough for him to speak again “I know this is a lot, and you need to sleep more (you are _going_ to eat as well), but Kagami will be here soon to see you and then we have to deal with Yare and… and Izuna. I want, I want you next to me for that, separation would be bad right now.” Tobirama nodded again, the soft pleased sound he made when Madara mention Kagami comforting to Madara somewhat, thank all the gods not every experience here was awful (though his words to Hashirama wouldn’t be forgotten- for all that he had been teetering on the brink of insanity at the time- and Tobirama may not have been safe there, but he sure as fuck hadn’t been safe here either, maybe they needed a new place altogether). Tobirama pushed himself up until he was draped over Madara’s chest, a cautious look in his eyes as he tugged idly on Madara’s hair; he leaned close, eyes flicking own and then up, and brushed his lips over the Uchiha’s very gently. Madara surged up into the contact, taking something relatively chaste and firming it into a real kiss, one Tobirama melted into as he shoved closer hands falling next to Madara’s shoulders to bury in his hair (god that felt_ good_); but then there was a shift and Tobirama’s thighs fell on either side of Madara’s hips and he all but snarled into the pale mouth at the sound the younger man made- a bitten off whine that set Madara on _fire_.

Madara licked hotly into Tobirama’s mouth (_fuck_ he tasted good) and rolled his hips up sharply, rejoicing in the reciprocal hardness he felt there as Tobirama moaned and panted, sucking at Madara’s tongue hotly. Madara fisted his hands in Tobirama’s white hair and dragged them apart, “Is this what you want?” the younger man nodded feverishly and Madara forced back his own moan, “I need you to _tell _me To’ra, with words” (Madara was _going _to establish communication as necessary in every way he could, no more not telling him when something was wrong) Tobirama whined but focused and looked hard into Madara’s eyes “_Yes_ ‘Dara_, _now _move!_” and well, far be it from him to not listen to his husband. Madara tightened his hold on the sharp hipbones and gave over to the gasping desire swarming through him, nothing mattered to him more than this; than watching this pale god above him twist and moan because of _Madara, _it was easy with that view to fall over the edge after his husband (following Tobirama as he would always do from here forward).

Madara couldn’t remember ever feeling so satiated before in his life as he was lying there sticky and hot with Tobirama draped over his chest and still making small pleasured noises (so. fucking. Hot.) just basking in the afterglow and warm knowledge that Tobirama was here with him and happy and satisfied because of _Madara_, that was the best part. He tipped his head to press his lips into soft white hair, “Love you” it was a soft mumble but it might as well have been an electric shock for how sharply Tobirama pulled back; Madara whined petulantly but sat up as well with a grumbled agreement that they should get up (he knew that wasn’t what Tobirama was doing but he was ignoring the other man’s shock for right now) and staggered to the closet to dig out clothing for him and robes for both of them to get to the bathroom. He was just trying to wrangle his hair out of the neck of his robe when strong arms wound around him and a shy kiss was pressed just below his ear “_love you too_” Tobirama murmured so softly Madara almost missed it, shivering ever so slightly; Madara threaded the fingers of one hand through the pale digits and squeezed gently but didn’t say anything, just letting his husband ride out whatever was bothering him until the shaking stopped and he could tug that elegant hand up and press a kiss to his palm. “Come on darling, Kagami won’t wait forever and I want a bath first.”

Tobirama followed him into the bathing room with only the slightest of hesitations but lingered by the door even as Madara started the water running and began to shed his clothing; a little unnerved by the other man’s hesitation Madara turned to him as he tied up his hair out of the way- he didn’t have time to wash it today- (he was completely unaware of the image he made nude muscles flexing under warm cream skin with his hands in his hair, Tobirama felt a bit like he might faint) “To’ra? Would you rather wash alone?” (Madara _really_ didn’t want him to want to wash alone) the albino shook his head and stepped a little farther into the room but made no move to take off his clothing. Madara frowned and took Tobirama’s hands in his own, “What’s the matter love?” a faint flush bloomed over pale cheeks and he wouldn’t look Madara in the eyes as he responded uncomfortably “I… I’m not exactly- not exactly _pleasing_ to look at.” Madara gaped at him, completely shocked because- _what?!_ “_What?! _You’re stunning.” Tobirama recoiled, pulling his hand from Madara’s harshly, "You didn’t think that last time you saw me without my shirt. I know what I look like Madara, my coloring is unnerving, and I have far too many scars for a shinobi of my skill and-“ Madara slapped a hand over his mouth, “No, _fuck_ no. You don’t get to talk that way about my husband. I don’t know why you think I don’t like the way you look but it’s fucking _bullshit_, I think you’re breath-taking. You glow in moonlight; did you know that? Your hair is unearthly and your body… _fuck_ but you make me _burn_. You have scars because you care about others too much and yourself too little, I don’t like that they must have hurt you, but they only show your dedication to those you care about. And your **_eyes_, **god your eyes are amazing, they’re so lovely they take my breath away, the way your wedding kimono set them off…. Gods Tobirama, you took my breath away even when I had no idea how amazing you were underneath that.”

The blush was hotter now and he kept slanting looks up at Madara from under white eye lashes; the Uchiha groaned and reached out to drag him into a hot kiss for a long moment, “I think you are the most beautiful thing alive darling, and if we had a little more time I would _show _you that.” Tobirama whined a little when Madara pulled back but this time he only hesitated a little before stripping his shirt over his head in one fast rush, like he was trying to move past something unpleasant; Madara’s eyes dropped to the knot of scar tissue on his side and Tobirama swallowed hard. He stepped forward and covered the scar with his hand, "The only thing I find unattractive about this is that I almost lost you before I know what I was losing; is that you felt you couldn’t heal it more gently. It doesn’t change the fact that I find you lovely beyond compare.” He pressed a gentle kiss to one cheek, “Come on, we need to get clean.”

It was… _difficult_ to keep his hands off of all that moon pale skin as they washed (difficult not to notice the scars- not as blemishes but as marks of pain, pain all to frequently self-inflicted-, difficult not to notice the too sharp bones- Madara would be making sure he ate more from here on out-, difficult not to just sweep him up and never let him go) but he resisted with only a few hot kisses pressed to his startlingly soft skin and a long caress or two down that long lovely back. They slipped out of bathroom in something like a timely manner and standing at the stairs with a look of deep fear and his small face was Kagami, Tobirama dropped to his knees and opened his arms immediately; Madara couldn’t help but smile as the boy launched himself across the hall and straight into his sensei. It was good to see the easy comfort they had together; good to see that this was a good thing for Tobirama in a world that wasn’t very good to him, Madara wanted to make more good things but he would always be so _fucking_ glad that they had each other.

Breakfast was filled with Tobirama absently playing with his husband’s fingers as he listened to Kagami fill him in on anything and everything he had missed; everything from how worried his mother and Mikoto had been to the kittens that had been born yesterday (Kikiyo watched with amusement and _deep_ relief, she hadn’t wanted to take up the mantel of the clan leader, not now and not ever), and Madara quietly badgered Tobirama into actually eating more then a few bites, (it was easier than expected really, all he had to do was fill a fork every time Tobirama got distracted and hand it to him, normally this would start him eating again for a few bites before he stopped) but it had to end and eventually Kikiyo sighed, “We need to deal with Yare” she said quietly and Tobirama smiled at Kagami before focusing on her “We do, what do we know about him? Other than that he stabbed me, obviously, and there was poison” Madara sighed, he didn’t want to think about this, he wanted one damn day when nothing went wrong and everything was ok, and he could curl up with his husband (<strike>and his brother</strike>).

Kikiyo pressed her lips together in frustration, “I don’t know much. Izuna told me what he could, just that Yare spent a lot of time with Yashiro and almost never saw his sister anymore, not since their father was killed- the sister is horrified by the way, no danger there- and Izuna, well, he knew that Yare was hearing a lot of things that he probably shouldn’t have- things Izuna says are sort of crazy in retrospect- but he was just a normal malcontent until the day that you came back from the treaty signing, one of the shinobi that went with you came to speak to Yashiro and Yare the second he got back. But Izuna doesn’t know what he said because he was already backing off after you threatened him Tobirama” (Madara shot him a startled glance and he shifted guilty “Someone had to give him a whack on the head to wake up” he mumbled) “so he doesn’t know what was talked about. Next thing anyone knows Yare's stabbing you with a blade covered in a poison no one recognizes.”

Madara rubbed at his brow tiredly, pressing a grateful kiss to Tobirama’s pale hand as it brushed across his cheekbones and the pain in his eyes was soothed away, “Why didn’t we find him sooner?” “Honestly? Because he was doing a good job looking innocent. Izuna told me everything he could about anyone that Yashiro talked to and we were checking others that seemed more likely. Honestly it makes no sense that he was fast enough to hurt you or that he had the resolve to do it. He’s never been much prone to action for all that he likes to talk.” Kikiyo said. Tobirama leaned back folding his arms thoughtfully (Madara got distracted for a moment admiring how much more _open_ he was being, the cold White Demon/Ghost was nowhere to be seen beyond his normal reserve) “So we have a man that would never act on his own getting a message and his mentor dying before he stabs me. Someone doesn’t want peace to work, but not a clan member,” he rolled his eyes at their startled looks “not with an unknown poison. There is no way they would keep something like that back from the clan. And given the way it latched onto my chakra it has a little something extra, that would be _very_ hard to make, _I_ probably couldn’t do it with just plant matter- it was a plant based compound- and” as impressed as Madara was by Tobirama’s ability to analyze a poison even as it was used on him there was an easier way to do this “Tobirama, how about we go ask him?” The albino blinked at him, looking a little startled to be pulled out of his train of thought but nodded easily enough.

Yare sneered at them when Mikoto deposited him in front of their small group (Madara was ignoring that Kikiyo had collected Izuna from somewhere, he couldn't deal with it right now) his eyes hateful when he looked at Tobirama. It didn’t even take many questions from Kikiyo to get him talking “-and you thought that it would be a good idea to try and assassinate the clan head’s husband?” “_Of course,_ it is! He’s a snake! A curse! The White Demon would have us all dead! He wants all Uchiha destroyed and he will start at the heart of us! Someone had to do it when Yashiro was too weak and Izuna chickened out! It’s me! I’m saving the clan! You’ll remember me as the person that saved us all!” Tobirama and Izuna both recoiled a little in the face of his mad spittle filled raving; Madara whipped his cheek clean with a disgusted grimace “You thought to kill my Center. You understand that don’t you?” he asked coldly. Yare’s eyes shone feverishly as he stared at his clan head “I was _saving _you! He’s a curse! Even his brother didn’t tell him about the marriage- he _wanted _to get rid of him!” Tobirama flinched back with a sharp gasp and Madara shifted closer until he could wrap and arm around his husband in reassurance (Izuna gaped, _what?!_) “You know nothing of Hashirama-“ “Saru _told me_! Told me he had heard it with his-“ “NO.” Madara snarled “You know nothing, no matter what some fool told you. Where did you get the poison?”

Yare drew back, a cagy look in his eyes something hunted passing over his face. Before they could ask anything else Tobirama’s head snapped up and he turned to the east as though he could hear something, a look of deep confusion on his face “Why is Hashirama coming here?” he asked slowly and Madara- Madara grimaced, he should have expected this. Kikiyo sighed tiredly, “Let me and Izuna deal with getting the information we need, you go deal with the Senju.” Madara sighed as well and nodded, as much as he wanted to hurt the man that had almost killed Tobirama he had other things he needed to do, like make sure _Hashirama_ didn’t hurt Tobirama. He would be allowed to kill the man after Kikiyo had what she wanted from him. Madara flicked a quick glance at Izuna, meeting his little brother's eyes for a moment and a shallow nod before turning to the door. “To’ra, we should go meet them.” Tobirama and followed him out nodding to Easha where she was perched watching over the prisoner as she had all night, “Why would Hashirama be headed _here_?” Easha ducked her head and got up to follow them, she owed it to Madara to explain what had happened with Hashirama while he was in a coma. “That would be my fault mostly. I, well, I didn’t take well to the idea of my kit marrying without love; which in an anathema to the Uchiha- a fate worse than death some would say-“ the look Madara shot her was pure poison and Easha felt bad the second she saw him tug a white faced Tobirama into his arms in the thin shade thrown by the building, trying to make him look Madara in the eyes from where he was staring unseeingly at the ground.

Easha walked around them till she could almost see his stricken face “I was _wrong_ Tobirama. Not something I admit to often, but true in this case. It _wasn’t_ a loveless marriage; anyone can see how you feel about each other and the only reason I didn’t was because I left for the Senju compound right after you got here to see what I could learn about you. People will say a lot to a quiet cat.” Tobirama’s color hadn’t recovered but he was looking at her and had loosened in Madara’s hold, leaning into the other man a little (and she spoke only the truth, there was so clearly _so much_ love between them, she had nothing to fear from them as long as neither of them died). She sighed and sat, wrapping her tail around her paws as she explained that she had heard very little about him- far less than she expected- except from his students and the healers (“-I didn’t bother to listen to family you see, to much bias. All I learned was that you were extremely devoted to your work and your clan; nothing that really helped me, I only stayed so long because there was a scent that was really bothering me and I was trying to track it down-“); and then more slowly explained what had happened after he fell to Yare’s blade. Tobirama twitched at the mention of his notes but Madara, Madara shuddered (the memory of that, of finding them and thinking he would never _know_ Tobirama-) and a startled Tobirama slipped an arm around Madara as he pressed himself as close as he could for the rest of the story, trying to keep the albino close enough that he wouldn’t forget the way his strong heart was beating.

When Easha fell silent and slipped back into the building to keep an eye on Yare Tobirama shifted until he could tug Madara’s head up and look him in the eyes, brushing his dark fringe out of the way. Madara pressed a hand to his chest relishing the strong beat “Now do you understand why you have to be more careful? Your heart beats for both of us now.” Tobirama smiled a little, “Madara I have loved you since I was a teenager and your chakra was the only solace I had when things were bad; I don’t mind sharing something that has long been yours or as little as a heartbeat. But, yes, I will be more cautious bright hawk, if that is what you wish.” Madara blew out a small relived laugh and pulled his husband into a lazy kiss. Tobirama pulled away regretfully after only a moment, a delightful flush on his cheek as he licked his lips and shook the faint glaze out of his eyes, “Hashirama is almost here, we should- um- we should go meet him.” Madara’s laugh this time was fuller and he turned to tug his husband towards the gates.

They were waiting just outside them when Hashirama crested the hill. Hashirama froze when he saw them (they were like a work of art together, turned towards each other a little even in stillness and perfect opposites, yin and yang given form in the early afternoon) for a long moment, he had been _so sure_\- he wanted to launch himself at his brother, to grab him into the tightest hug he could and make sure that he would never loosing him again, but- but he wasn’t sure if that wasn’t a privilege he had lost (what Madara had _shown him-_). He approached them slowly trying to look Tobirama over and see if he was well (how long had it been since he had done that last?), he was standing straight and tall, but he was pale, and thin even in a white Uchiha robe (he looked a little like he might blow away if it weren’t for the red of his tattoos and Madara’s robe where his arm was wrapped protectively around him) but he was on his feet and that was _so much more_ than Hashirama had expected. “Little brother,” he said softly as he reached them, (why did Tobirama look _so surprised?_) “I am… I am _so glad _to see you awake.” Tobirama frowned at him faintly, “Hashi? Are you alright? Is Mito or Touka hurt? What happened?” (Tobirama didn’t think that him almost dying was reason enough for Hashirama to be upset?) “I- can I hug you?” Hashirama asked pathetically.

Tobirama frowned more deeply but stepped forward (Madara’s hand slid to his back but didn’t fall away, thank god) and opened his arms for Hashirama. It was strange, hugging his brother like this, carefully instead of suffocating, hugging him after asking if it was ok, hugging him like he was every bit as precious as he was; and Tobirama was confused, Hashirama could feel it in his body language as he firmly hugged him and Hashi didn’t know what to say. (he met Madara’s spinning eyes over a white robed shoulder) Eventually he had to pull back and look his brother in the eyes, (all he could remember was what his brother’s eyes looked like the day after he put acid in them just to learn if he could heal them for his new clan) and took a deep breath, choked, looked at Madara and his raised brow, looked at his little brother (his _last_ little brother) and forced himself to speak “I, I have not treated you as I should, little brother. I was cruel, selfish, self-centered, spoiled, and I more than forgot the trees for the forest. _Fuck,_ Tobira, there wouldn’t _be_ trees if you weren’t around to keep things together and I- I don’t know how to apologize. You, you’re my little brother and I have, I haven’t really treated you like it have I? I’ve failed you- no, don’t argue, I have- and I just hope I can learn a new way. I _want_ to do better by you Tobira, and I owe it to a lot of people to do better from now on. But Tobirama I want you to know for what it’s worth, I am proud of you, _so, so proud of you._”

The sound Tobirama made sounded like it had been punched out of him and he touched Hashirama’s shoulder gently, “That means more to me than you can know big brother.” If his voice was a little wet neither of the other men called him on it and both allowed the conversation to turn to other topics (Hashirama didn’t forget, neither would the Senju as long as they lived in the clan compound surrounded by lilies and yew).

The moment that they got a bit of peace- when Kagami (bless that clever boy) distracted Hashirama with questions and demands to be shown the mokuton- Madara tugged Tobirama away into a dim, empty room; the second they were alone Tobirama sagged, slumping down to lean on Madara’s shoulder, “Are you alight darling?” he asked softly. Tobirama nodded against his shoulder and cleared his throat, “I just never…. Never thought that brother would say that, and I-“ He was starting to shake a little again and Madara swore as he put the pieces together with that morning, “Tobirama, _why_ do you hate it so much when people apologize to you?” The albino shivered and pressed himself closer, but Madara’s gentle hand on his back coaxed the words out of him “I don’t like, you never really do anything wrong and I hate that you are blaming yourself for my failures.” Madara forced himself not to react other than tightening his arm around the younger man’s waist, he couldn’t change this thought pattern over night “And Father… father didn’t like failure and he hated it more when I got my brothers in trouble because of it.” Tobirama’s voice dropped to a thready whisper on the last words and Madara dropped his head back to thud on the wall behind him and counted his breath until he no longer felt the need to spit fire, “That doesn’t mean that you don’t deserve to have people apologize to you when they hurt you. And that's _never_ your fault, you aren’t responsible for everything.”

Tobirama huffed a laugh into his neck “Have you met me?” he asked in a surprisingly steady tone and Madara snorted, “Yes, thank the gods” he murmured against Tobirama’s lips as the younger man drew him in for a kiss. It started slow and lazy until the albino tugged sharply on a handful of hair and sent electricity sparking down Madara’s spine; remembering earlier reactions he flared a small wave of chakra over his husband and was rewarded instantly when Tobirama’s knees actually went out from under him with a desperate whimper that sent all thoughts of propriety fleeing from Madara’s mind in a second. Somewhere in the desperate tangle after that (every time he flared his chakra he got that _amazing_ sound), in the hot rush of fingers in his hair and white skin under his hands as he shoved at Tobirama’s robes, he ended up behind Tobirama, pressing the albino firmly into the wall; the first roll of his hips made the younger man _moan_ and Madara rather lost his mind, bending forward and biting at the pale neck before gasping in the a pale ear “Is this what you want? Are you ok with this here?” a moan “Words love, or no more.” Tobirama _snarled_ and reached back to knot his fingers in Madara’s hair “If you stop I will kill you” he hissed with far too much clarity.

Madara shoved as the robe until it hit the ground and tore at his pants; they had no slick but just like this, with Tobirama’s legs spread just enough he could rut against his ass, cock catching on where he wanted to be most on every other roll of his hips, Tobirama moaning and shaking under his hands and chakra (he was going to be so pissed when he realized Madara was using the Sharingan again, but there was no way he was missing remembering this); stunning as he twisted under Madara (they would be doing this properly, _soon_) and then falling over the edge untouched when Madara blanketed him in chakra and refused to let it up. Madara followed him right over, the image of Tobirama biting at Madara’s arm where it was braced in front of him to silence his screams driving him to utter ecstasy. They stood there, pressed together as closes as possible relishing the afterglow and closeness until Madara pulled himself away reluctantly to look for something to clean with; taking a moment as he did so to admire the lovely image Tobirama made pressed against the wall and marked with Madara’s seed, it was the best thing he had ever seen.

Clean up accomplished they rejoined Hashirama and Kagami (Tobirama winked at the boy and he _beamed_) just as Easha raced into the main house and launched herself at Madara, “Madara, the scent, the one I smelled at the Senju, I know why I knew it, I’ve _smelled it here_ and I smell in on Yare!” Madara froze, that- what? Kikiyo and Izuna raced in after her “She told you then?” Kikiyo asked breathlessly, “Told me what?” asked Madara bewildered even as Tobirama went pale as the pieces started to fit together “I smelled someone- something- here in the Uchiha compound and when I went to the Senju I smelled it there too. And it is the scent of whoever gave Yare his poison.” The cat summons hissed. “Someone is trying to pit us against each other” Tobirama said grimly “Lady Neko, are they nearby?” Easha smutched her nose, “Call all the summons, we will find them if they are here.” She said, rasping voice hard and angry.

Only a few short moments after the summons had been sent out one raced back in, “Found it!” gasped the small cat and every Shinobi in the house raced after her as she lead them over the wall and through the forest in a blindingly fast chase (Tobirama remaining with the pack instead of far ahead only by dint of his still healing chakra and Madara’s desperate, pleading eyes) straight to a tall cliff, and a strange figure in voluminous robes it lunched itself at Tobirama and Madara even as it made clones and threw them fruitlessly at Hashirama. But even with whatever unnatural power it had Madara’s only equal in power was Hashirama and he _shredded_ it before anyone even had the chance to help. Madara stood over it, a disgusted look on his face, “That wasn’t nearly as hard as I expected” he grumbled and Tobirama- examining a clone he had brought down with careful chakra- sighed “I wish we could have asked what it was trying to do, if it was working with anyone. I dislike not knowing who my enemies are and why they want to kill me.” Madara laughed and looked over his shoulder at the albino, haloed in sun with affection clear in his eyes and Tobirama-

Tobirama couldn’t believe this, that this was something he got to have now; a future with this amazing passionate man, a future of peace and maybe even a village in a place like this were the land was painted into something new and free of small graves in the falling sunlight.


	19. Dance

Tobirama saw it happen as if in slow motion, Madara leaned over the creature a look of disgust on his face (Tobirama wanted to tell him _not to poke at_ dead things) and his hair a curtain of shadow over one shoulder; then- then the _thing_ twitched, Madara hadn’t seen it from his angle and Tobirama knew even he couldn’t get there fast enough and he _screamed_ as a long twisted appendage exploded out of the thing (it should have been _dead_) headed straight towards Madara’s heart (at Tobirama’s heart). Madara recoiled but he was too_ close-_ (Tobirama refused to live without him, he _refused_) and Tobirama knew it was over. Then a twist of movement and- Izuna. Izuna his back pressed to his older brother’s chest hands clenched around the attacking limb, but- but it wasn't _enough _to stop it and Izuna folded forward over it where it was buried in his breastbone. Tobirama crashed to a halt next to them catching them both as they fell, even as a absentminded gesture _dragged-clawed_ all water and blood from whatever that _thing_ was, leaving it a desiccated husk. He tugged Izuna’s hands away, carefully cupping his hands over the wound and pressing chakra into it with everything he had, distantly aware of Madara, eyes wide with shock leaning on Tobirama’s side as he cradled his brother in his lap. It, it wasn’t enough. Tobirama knew that, knew that all the chakra in the world couldn’t recreate a _pulverized_ heart.

Madara was shaking, Tobirama against his side the only thing holding his to the ground. Izuna gasped in a rough breath and whimpered a little at the pain, dark eyes open and hurting; Madara shifted him to a softer hold and felt Tobirama’s chakra change and even as he passed a hand though his brother’s hair the lines on Izuna’s face eased. “Why did you do that little brother?” Madara rasped, Izuna huffed a noiseless laugh “You, you’re my big brother. I always want to help you, even when I fuck it up royally. Besides, no one wants a mad Tobirama, he might start raising the dead” Madara whimpered and tried (he _tried_) to laugh at his brother’s feeble joke (for all the Izuna was dead serious). “I, I don’t want- I-“ Madara was shaking he realized distantly, aching down to the bones; he couldn’t seem to get the words out, couldn’t seem to _find _the words for the hurting tangle in his chest. Izuna smiled a red smile (so, so grateful to see his brother’s eyes were black) “I know I’ve fucked up, more than anyone should, but I- _ah_\- I’m h-happy for you bro-ther. I want, I wan-t you to find the peace you want so much. That village you- you us-ed to talk abo-about. I- I want you _to be happy_. _Be happy_. Be happ-y wih-ith him, make the world b-h-etter, I know you can. P-peace never made sense to me, but I thi-k when I see you two together I under-understand it a bi-it bet-ha-ter. Don- don’t let that go-“

Tobirama leaned forward and pressed a gentle hand to Izuna’s cheek, “Let it go brother, we understand, I’ll take care of him. You don’t need to hurt.” Izuna gasped and a tear slid down his cheek even as a tremulous smile dawned on his face (a smile gentler than any he had smiled for years, one Madara had thought dead) and Madara folded forward pressing his forehead to his brothers and whining a little. Izuna raised a cold hand and tugged weakly at a lock of hair “No eyes for you, you hear? Mine burn with me.” Madara nodded jerkily and gasped on a harsh sob, Izuna looked at his brother and he hoped- “We forgive you.” It was Tobirama, his eyes grieved and sorrowful; Madara choked out an agreement and Izuna relaxed “Le-ht ther..e be no.. bad bl-ood between us in… the Pure Lands th-en” and he slipped away. Tobirama closed his sightless eyes and curled forward over his husband where he was clutching his brother. They stayed there a long time, letting the world turn around them until Madara turned into Tobirama and pressed a tear-broken face to his pale neck. Tobirama hummed and watched the sun set into clouds red as blood.

(There is a stone, the oldest in Konoha’s cemetery; it is a simple white stone and on it is inscribed “Izuna Uchiha, who never stood when he could run, who never waited when he could fight, who never flew but _danced_.”)

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a long (and cruel) chain of comments from Miray, kistsunesongs, and LunarWarrior098, the first of which was this: "Now I wonder how fast Madara would fall in love with a living man. The same universe but with a significant difference at the beginning of history. Izuna lost too much blood to attack Tobirama. Tobirama lives.  
Madara wants peace. The White Demon showed mercy his brother. But will he do it again if they meet on the battlefield once again?  
The Uchiha Elders want Madara to take his brother's eyes and kill all Senju. Unfortunately for them, many Uchiha began to support the idea of peace with Senju Clan. The Uchiha elders are forced to make peace talks. They make conditions that they believe will never be fulfilled... The marriage between Madara and Tobirama.  
Madara is unhappy and desperate. Unhappy because Uchiha should married only for love ... Desperate because he wants to protect his brother at all costs.  
Tobirama is happy and sad at the same time. Happy because he will marry a man whom he loves and sad because this man doesn't want him."


End file.
